


Notebook

by inthepouringrain



Category: Original Work
Genre: Art, BL, Bisexual Male Character, Bookshop, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Panic, Homosexuality, M/M, Magic, Magical, Magical Accidents, Male Bonding, Male Friendship, Male Homosexuality, Male Protagonist, Original Character-centric, Original Fiction, Our time, Our universe, POV Male Character, POV Original Character, Real Life, Romantic Friendship, Slice of Life, Whimsical, YA
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-02 12:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 37,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21161333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthepouringrain/pseuds/inthepouringrain
Summary: Daniel, a laidback and friendly shopkeeper, sold his friend a notebook. The recipient of this notebook, the high-strung artist James, gets a bit more than he bargained for, so he seeks out Daniel's help to figure out why the notebook doesn't work as it should.





	1. The Issue

The cat, who was fast asleep on the windowsill outside the shop, stirred ever so slightly as the shop’s bell rang, announcing the entrance of a customer. At it was right before closing time, along with the cat Daniel stirred upon hearing the sound, as he’d been immersed in a book. As he looked up, he saw a young man, roughly his own age, pace towards him. 

“There’s something wrong with the notebook,” said James, looking more agitated than Daniel had ever seen him. 

“Hey James! A faulty notebook? What’s wrong with it?”

“It just - it doesn’t work.” James replied with audible frustration in his voice.

“I can replace it for you, if you want?” 

This didn’t seem to satisfy James, who was tapping his fingers on the counter in what seemed like an involuntary expression of anxiety.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” James replied after a short hesitation. “I don’t think there’s another one like it. I got it off that shelf there,” He pointed to an array of notebooks to the right of where they were standing. “But there wasn’t another one like it, I don’t think.”

Daniel, trying not to look too surprised or worried, put on the smile he reserved for angry customers, lined with a tinge of sympathy. “Okay, maybe I can help you? I vaguely remember selling you it.” Over the years, as James had started coming into the shop frequently and they got chatting and eventually started hanging out on occasion, Daniel had come to know that his friend wasn’t the least uptight person in the world, but this was… different. 

“I don’t know, it’s… complicated.”

“Okay well, how about I just close up for the evening because nobody will come in anymore anyway, and we can sit down and you can explain the problem to me and we can try to figure it out?” he proposed while walking over to the door and flipping the sign and locking the bolts. “Come, there’s a sofa in the back and I’ll get the kettle on.”

Seemingly unfazed by the sudden action, James asked for a pencil. 

“Sorry?”

“A pencil. Do you have one? I don’t mind what kind. A pen would do even.”

“Eh, sure, here you go.” They were in an art store after all, of course he had a pencil, Daniel thought as he handed his friend a stray pencil from the countertop. 

As they entered the back room, a sort of lounge with a sofa and a few chairs and a small kitchen area, Daniel pointed at the sofa and James sat down and immediately bent over his backpack to take out a small notebook. He flipped over to the first empty page, about halfway in, and started sketching, frowning intently at the page. 

“How do you take your tea again?” Daniel asked, with his back turned towards the rest of the room. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“Don’t you want tea?” Daniel turned around. “I can get you something else. Water? There’s probably some alcohol back here.” He looked over, and it took him just about everything he had to not drop the kettle on the floor. Sitting on the coffee table were two full cups of tea that definitely hadn’t been there a minute ago. 

“Sorry, I forgot how you take it so I just made them black, is that ok?” James asked, not quite realising the ridiculousness of the situation.

“W-what? How? When did you… I didn’t did I? Did I forget? Huh?” Daniel placed the kettle on the kitchen counter and took the few steps to the coffee table, cautiously watching the cups of tea. 

“Yes so you asked me about the notebook,” James began. “This is how it works, basically. I draw something I want, and it appears.” He pointed at the mugs and took one and took a sip. “It’s pretty good tea even. This is how I found out it worked like this, I was just practising, sketching, and I felt like having some tea so I drew a cup of tea and it just… appeared.”

Daniel had slumped down into one of the armchairs, looking confused but fortunately not too terrified. “So,” he started. “if you want something and you draw it in the book, it appears?” he asked after a short while.

“Yes that is what I just said.” Realising he sounded a bit unreasonably annoyed given the fact that he had just showed someone actual magic for the first time in their life, he showed Daniel the page with the tea cups drawn onto it, in the exact same shape as the ones on the table. He only held it open a second or so, and hastily closed it again and put it on the coffee table out of his friend’s reach. “But there is a problem with it. As I also said. Try the tea,” he urged. “It’s really quite all right. I’ve had it before and I’m still alive.”

With visible hesitation Daniel leaned forward and took the tiniest sip of tea from the untouched mug, as if he was sampling a very strong alcohol. When he realised that it wasn’t going to instantly kill him, he took the mug in both hands and sat back, glaring at James through the steam rising up from the tea. “So you have this magical notebook that allows you to acquire whatever you want?” he started. “What, in the world, could possibly be the problem?” See, for a shopkeeper, Daniel wasn’t stupid, far from it. And he knew for certain that if he had had this notebook he wouldn’t have to be getting by selling pencils and brushes. He mentally kicked himself as he remembered finding it on the counter near the till, thinking it belonged to the stock, and shelving it along with the Moleskines and Paperblanks and other completely innocent non-magical notebooks. 

“As I said,” James repeated, barely bothering to keep the irritation out of his voice. “It doesn’t work. It’s not doing what it’s supposed to.” 

“So what you’re saying is you tried to draw something you wanted and it didn’t appear?”

“Yes exactly,” James nodded, glad someone understood. 

“What I don’t understand is how you’re not halfway across the world right now with a massive bag of money on you,” Daniel stated, half serious, half joking. Though at the same time the thought made him… sad, so he decided to drop it. “So what is this thing that you’re trying to get?” 

James ran a hand through his hair, and the way in which it fell messily across his forehead seemed to fit his mood quite perfectly. “I don’t know if I should show you,” he said heavily. 

“Hey, we’re dealing with a magic notebook here. Now is not the time to be insecure about your art, which, by the way, is amazing.” Daniel was one of those people of whom you could tell that their compliments were always as sincere and truthful as they could possibly be. Even though the quality of the drawings was besides the point, it put James at ease enough to reach over for the notebook again. 

“Okay, here you go,” he sighed as he handed it over. 

Without another word Daniel started browsing. On the first page was, as expected, a drawing of a cup of tea, similar to the ones on the lat page and on the table. The next few pages contained more sketches of small objects. A few pages in he saw what looked like the jumper James was currently wearing. He turned the page and saw something he didn’t expect. It was a study of a young woman, fully clothed and extremely detailed. While the drawing was very beautiful, it was also quite unsettling, and Daniel tried to not let that show on his face so as to not make his friend more uncomfortable than he probably already was. He kept flicking through the pages, seeing more and more female forms. Some were rough sketches, some were portraits, some were nudes, which he quickly skipped past. He felt overwhelmed and it took him a second to gather his thoughts, but soon enough he realised what all the drawings had in common. They were all… objective. Admittedly, he thought, this could be because he himself wasn’t too fond of the female form, at least not in that way. But he knew how to read a piece of art fairly well, and it was usually easy to tell when the artist had poured some of himself into the work, some emotion or some experience. These did not contain such features. 

“Are these all…” he began. “Are these of real women?” 

“Oh no! No no no not at all, no!” James replied hastily. “See, the thing is,” he started, slumping back on the sofa and taking a sip of tea, which seemed to give him some courage. “My parents have been asking me and telling me,” he continued. “I’m graduated now, I have a job, they’re saying it’s high time I find someone and get married. And, you know this… I’ve never been able to find that person. If I had this wouldn’t be a problem.” He frustratedly gestured into the air. “So when I found out what the notebook could do, I figured…”

“You figured you’d draw her?” Daniel asks, ignoring the same sharp sweet pain he’d felt earlier. 

“Yes, exactly. I figured if I can’t find the ideal woman, I’d draw her. But it isn’t working.” 

Daniel sighed. “I mean, they’re very beautiful-”

“Thank you!”

“-but why do you think it didn’t work?” he continued.

“I don’t know,” James stated sadly. “At first I figured it shouldn’t be that difficult. People find people all the time, and they get married and they seem pretty happy. I don’t see why it can’t be like that for me. How do you do that?”

Daniel, who was still bent over one of the pages of the notebook, bolted upright. “How do I do what?” he asked quickly, suddenly anxious. 

“You know, talk to women. Approach them. Get with them.”

“I- I don’t, really,” Daniel admitted.

“Wait, so you’ve never…?” James asked, not bothering to finish the sentence as all the meaning he needed to convey hung right between them in the air. As they had been friends for quite a while, one would expect they knew such things of each other, but due to coincidental inexperience on James’ end and careful avoidance on Daniel’s part, the topic had never come up. 

Daniel sat back, almost as if he was trying to disappear into the armchair. He clutched his mug of tea in both hands and blew on the liquid to cool it down as James watched the steam curl up into the curls framing his friend’s face. The light of the setting sun coming through the blinds highlighted Daniel’s features quite beautifully, James couldn’t help but think. From an artistic point of view. Of course. 

“I have,” he said after a little while. “Just not lately,” he added and immediately regretted. This was probably the most he’d ever shared with a friend about that aspect of his life, and more than he cared to share for now. “But, this isn’t about me and what I have done and what I haven’t done,” he continued in a firm tone. “It’s about you and your… issue.” He really didn’t know how to phrase it in any other way, and he didn’t have much to add on the matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I started writing this chapter a few months ago as a little writing exercise, and liked it so much I decided to continue and try to turn it into a longer work. By now this has turned into a proper story, and if you choose to read the rest I hope you m  
enjoy it as much as I enjoyed making it!


	2. The Movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just two blokes meeting up to see a film together. That's all. Seriously. That's all it is.

About a week and a half or so later James came into the shop around closing time again. The two men usually didn’t go more than a few days without seeing each other, even just because James would constantly be sent around to the shop on errands for his boss, who’s studio was conveniently located just around the corner. This time however, he hadn’t been sent around to fetch a tube of paint in a colour that had only been described to him by way of an obscure weather phenomenon. He had come to see Daniel. 

As he entered the shop, he noticed that his friend was already animatedly talking to another person. A tall male, almost as tall as Daniel himself, stood leaning against the checkout counter, clutching a paper bag containing his purchases. He was handsome. Objectively speaking. Of course. 

“Yeah, you should totally go see it! So it’s like a biopic, but then it’s also kind of a musical - Oh hi, James! - I’m not even doing it justice, you should see it for yourself. We can go see it!” Daniel exclaimed, as if he’d just had the best idea in the world, as he half-waved half-beckoned James over. “Hey, you’re early! James, this is Benedict. Ben. Ben, this is James. Ben is an art history TA at the university, and James is part of the furniture here,” he introduced. 

James noticed two things about the situation. The first was that unlike last week, his friend’s shoulders were relaxed and his smile wasn’t in the slightest bit forced in the presence of this virtual stranger. The second was the fact that he didn’t like it one bit. He shook Ben’s hand, squeezed a bit too hard, and let go a bit too quickly. 

Ben, however, seemed completely unfazed as they exchanged pleasantries for a minute. “I’ll probably be in next week anyway, but you have my number so just message me and we can meet up and go see that film,” he said, as he briefly hugged Daniel and then left. 

Daniel flipped the sign, bolted the door and gestured to James. “Come, we’ll leave through the back,” he said as he led the way into the break room.

“So how many times are you actually going to see this film?” James asked Daniel.

“Well, I saw it last week and now I’m seeing it with you and probably next week as well by the sound of things. I’ve been telling you, it’s really good, you’ll love it,” Daniel went on, oblivious to James’ slightly annoyed expression. “Besides, you know how I always rewatch films.” 

James couldn’t find fault with this logic, so he dropped it. “So who is this guy anyway?” he continued his interrogation, hoping it wouldn’t sound like an interrogation. 

“Oh he’s just this artist who works at the uni and buys his supplies here,” Daniel answered casually as he bolted the back door and led his friend through an alleyway onto the main street. “He’s crazy talented. You know how you sometimes come across someone who isn’t necessarily an artist but they’re just so talented and you’re thinking they should just be, an artist, I mean. Kind of like you actually.” 

James didn’t let the compliment go unnoticed and smiled a bit, despite his completely irrational annoyance. “So are you guys friends now?” 

Daniel rolled his eyes, not bothering to hide it. “Hey, I thought we’d said we could see other people!” he exclaimed, realising it was a bit bold especially for him, but also not wanting to make it too heavy. “You do know that I have other friends right?” he asked, still making sure to make it clear he was joking. “Don’t worry though, none of them come into the shop even half as often as you do. Also, I’m not on my way to see this amazing film with any of them right now.” He smiled, and realised that he didn’t have to reassure his friend - what was this whole issue even about anyway? - but that he didn’t mind either. 

James saw Daniel’s smile and tried not to think that it was possibly the purest and most sincere thing he’d ever seen and failed at trying, but he did feel reassured. “Let’s just go see this film,” he said after a short while when he’d collected and carefully stashed away his thoughts. “You’ve hyped it up so much, I’m sure it’ll be great.” And it was, it really was pretty great.


	3. The Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James finds out how annoying it can be to miss the bus.

A few hours later they strolled, quite aimlessly, through the little square of park opposite the cinema. James had decided to just let Daniel finish his excited tirade about the film and everything that was amazing about it, which was apparently just about anything. 

“So did you actually get any of those Dutch angles? That was just - pure craftsmanship, right. Wait, did you actually like the film? I didn’t even ask yet did I?” he interrupted himself, suddenly looking quite a bit more concerned. 

“I liked it,” James assured him with a measured but genuine smile. His smiles weren’t free. “Thanks for taking me. Seriously, it’ a good film, I had fun.” 

Seemingly satisfied with the reassurance, Daniel went on about some obscure fact about one of the filming locations, and James’ thought drifted off to the beginning of the evening. He waited a while until he found an opportunity to interject, and then spoke up. 

“Since when are you such a hugger, actually?” he asked his friend, trying to sound casual. 

Daniel looked up confusedly. “I don’t know,” he replied. “Since ever, I guess. Why?” 

“Because you hugged that guy…” 

“Oh right, yes, Ben.” Daniel’s eyes lit up, either because he finally understood what James was on about or because he was enthusiastic about something. “Well, see, the thing is… You once said that you don’t ever hug, or that you don’t like it, something along those lines. So I don’t hug you. Because you don’t like it.” He looked at James as if he was explaining that one plus one is two. In his mind, to be fair, it was. 

James, meanwhile, couldn’t remember ever saying anything of the sort, but he admitted it sounded a lot like him. He decided to just accept that his memory was terrible and move on from that. “Ah, right. Yeah that makes sense,” he said after a little while, unsure as to why he suddenly felt a little bit disappointed.

“By the way, when’s your bus?” Daniel asked suddenly, as he waited for James to take out his phone and check the bus timetable. 

James pulled a face. “50 minutes, I just missed it,” he shrugged. He was already late and already not going to get a full night’s sleep.

“At least then come back to mine for a bit so you don’t have to wait out here in the cold?” Daniel offered. 

“Yeah, sounds good!” Sitting in a bus stop for nearly an hour wasn’t James’ favourite Friday night activity, so he happily agreed, and they made their way back to the shop, the street lights casting a taller and a slightly shorter shadow ahead of them.


	4. The Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel being his extremely generous self.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much in the house,” Daniel admitted as he briefly fumbled with the back door lock. “I have water. And coffee, tea… So basically water, bean water and leaf water.” He pretended not to notice when James pulled a disgusted expression at the term ‘bean water’. 

They entered the flat above the shop and Daniel gestured for James to wait in the doorstep as he stepped forward into the pitch black room and switched on a variety of lamps scattered around the room. “Okay, that’s better. Come in! Sit down!”

He watches as James cautiously took place next to a pile a books on the small sofa. “Oh yeah, sorry about those. I was tidying earlier but I suppose I did a pretty poor job of that,” Daniel apologised. “So, drink. As I said, I have various preparations of water. Actually, wait,” he interrupted himself as he took the two steps into a minuscule kitchen area, opened one of the high cupboards, and pulled out a half empty bottle of Laphroaig 10. 

James looked very surprised. “Wait, why do you have that?” he asked, seeming genuinely curious. “You don’t even drink.”

“Well, for starters,” Daniel began as he pulled two glasses out of another cupboard. “I barely drink. It was a gift from one of our suppliers a few years ago and since then guests have been slowly hacking away at it. I gather you want some?” he asked, already pouring. 

“Sure, why not. Beats bean water,” James replied with the same disgusted face, as he took the significantly fuller glass that Daniel handed him; he’d only poured himself a tiny bit. 

Daniel removed the books from the sofa and took place himself, but immediately got up again and went over to a side table by the bookcase, which showcased a record player. After flicking through the record section of the bookcase for a while, he decided on an album with a cover that most resembled a child’s finger painting, and put it on. He sat down a bit more contentedly as harmonic singing blended with electrical music. They sat together in silence for a while, James sipped his whisky and Daniel seemed to be pondering over something. 

“It’s a bit… conceptual, isn’t it?” James remarked after a while, vaguely gesturing to the record player. 

“Says the artist,” was Daniel’s quick comeback, though he looked confused and somewhat annoyed having had his concentration broken. “If you promise to be really, really careful with the record player you can put something else on.” 

James was already browsing the stacks of records. “You know, you could just play all of this stuff on your phone, get some speakers maybe?” he asked. 

“It doesn’t sound the same. You hear that crackle, you don’t get that on a phone. It’s really not the same.” Daniel looked over as the sound stopped and saw James put a different record on. Jim Morrison began to sing. “Hey, I didn’t know you were a Doors fan!” he commented. 

“Yeah this is definitely a bit more my speed,” James shrugged. He sat down again and took another sip of whisky. “This is really good,” he said, his voice a bit hoarse from the light burn that the liquor left behind. “Surprised you kept it for so long.”

Daniel looked at his untouched glass. “It makes me… anxious, sometimes. Drinking, I mean, like the effects of alcohol.”

“Oh please don’t feel like you have to…” James said, suddenly more alert. 

“No no, it’s fine, don’t worry, I’m good!” Daniel took a demonstrative sip from his own glad. The liquid burned his lips, but it tasted good. “See, totally fine.” He sat back and smiled faintly, holding the glass in two hands like he always did his tea. 

“So,” Daniel started. “Did you give it another go with the notebook?” It could have been his own anxiety, but he’d felt like the topic had hung between them all evening, almost tangible in the air. “I mean if you did I suppose it didn’t work, because then why would you be here, right?” He laughed, but it didn’t sound as confident as it normally did. 

“I tried a bit, but it didn’t work. I have lots of mugs now though, that still works.” He shrugged again. “I’ll give you this, your tea is better than the notebook’s.” 

Daniel wasn’t immune to praise either, and he smiled more genuinely this time. “You know, I wonder why you don’t just draw yourself a mansion somewhere in the countryside. You could move there, not a care in the world. Maybe even rent me a room.” He watched a drop of water slowly make its way down one of the pipes connected to the boiler. 

“Oh I tried! In fact, I have a very lovely model of a stately home on my windowsill now. It’s tiny, though, I wouldn’t fit in it.” James grinned. “I don’t think the notebook works like that. Maybe because something like a house can’t materialise in front of me, or because I don’t know exactly where it’s supposed to go or how big it’s supposed to be exactly. Besides,” he went on. “Would you really give up the world’s shortest commute?” 

“You make a fair point, it is the best commute anyone could ever have.” Though his work was downstairs, and nobody really batted an eye if Daniel opened the shop at 9 sharp, he was still one of those people who preferred to wake up early and have a long, relaxed morning rather than to rush. 

“You know,” Daniel started again. “I’ve been thinking about it since you came to the shop. I wish I could help you, but I really don’t know how.” 

“Don’t worry about it. If I don’t even know what to do with this, how could you? I shouldn’t have asked in the first place, that was kind of a shitty thing to do.”

“Fair enough, I just, I hate not being able to help out.”

“Well, you could-” James rolled up his shirts’ sleeve to look at his watch. “Help me out massively by letting me crash on your sofa. If I haven’t missed the last bus yet I will even if I leave now.”

“Oh no,” Daniel started. “No, sorry, that won’t do.”

James’ face turned. “Oh, I…”

“Oh no sorry! That’s not what I meant at all,” his friend replied. “Of course you can crash! I meant I can’t let you sleep on this thing,” he patted the sofa. “It’s pretty terrible for sleeping on. Take the bed instead!” He started laughing as he saw James’ relief. “Sorry I scared you there. Seriously, you’re always welcome to stay.” 

As Daniel contentedly took a tiny sip of his whisky, James started on his defence. “That is so nice of you but I can’t let you sleep in this thing either. Like, just about half of you fits on here.” He gestured vaguely at his friend’s body, which was undoubtedly too tall for the sofa. In the background, Jim Morrison sang about sleep.

“No please, take the bed!” Daniel replied quickly. “I put on fresh sheets and everything this morning, it’s all clean. Seriously, it’s fine, I’ll live,” he finished dramatically, grinning to make sure James knew it really wasn’t a problem. 

They chatted about nothing and everything while Daniel put out some towels and a toothbrush and made sure everything was taken care of in the way he did when he had someone or something to take care of, because that’s what he was like. As the Doors song faded out, they both went to sleep.


	5. The Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He even makes breakfast.

When the first rays of sunlight started creeping through the gaps in the blinds and illuminated James’ face as he slowly stirred awake. He quietly got out of bed and slipped into the jeans and t-shirt he’d left on the floor the night before. He appeared out of the tiny bedroom and was immediately greeted by the pleasant scent of strong coffee. “Hey,” he greeted Daniel, his voice even more hoarse than it normally was; a hint of the smoky aroma of last night’s whisky lingered at the back of his throat. 

“Morning!” Daniel greeted him back, seeming incredibly fresh and bright given the hour of day. 

“What time is it?” 

“Hm, seven thirty-ish. Did you sleep well?” 

“Yeah, like a brick.” James stretched his back. “Again, thanks for lending me the bed. I don’t think I’ve slept this well in a while.” It was true, he’d been dealing with some form of insomnia for as long as he could remember. 

“Again, don’t worry about it. Want some coffee?” 

“Bean water after all.” He couldn’t get the term out of his head. “Please.” 

“Black, right?”

“Yeah.” 

Daniel poured two mugs of coffee from a percolator. The same mugs, James noticed, as he’d made appear onto the coffee table in the break room a while back. He gladly took one and blew on the liquid in an attempt to cool it down to a drinkable temperature. Steam rose up from the mug and fogged up his glasses and he decided not to bother doing anything about it. They sat at the post stamp sized dining table slash desk and quietly got caffeinated together for a while. James ran his fingers along a row of keys of the typewriter that sat next to its modern computer counterpart. 

“I know I make fun,” he said, referring to his comment about the record player from last night. “But it’s kind of cool, the old stuff. LP’s and film cameras and typewriters and such.”

“Yeah, I mean… Just because we keep replacing things doesn’t mean the older versions don’t have their own charm. I somehow get by selling paper and pencils and godknowswhat.” He shrugged. Daniel wasn’t the sort of person to spend a lot of time contemplating what his hobbies implied about him; he did what he liked and he liked what he did and that was enough.

“Okay but enough about my obsession with old things,” Daniel said abruptly. “Shall I make some breakfast? I could do pancakes and… well, yeah, that’s the only thing I have ingredients for.”

“Oh god that sounds amazing. You know, if it’s not a bother…” In truth, James didn’t quite know how exactly to deal with such quantities of genuinely nice behaviour as he’d been met with over the past twelve hours. Most people he knew and had known were perfectly pleasant, but not incredibly selfless and genuine, and he had no clue how to respond to it.

“No it’s totally fine don’t worry! I need to eat anyway, also I’m pretty sure these eggs need using up. Seriously, no bother at all.” 

James decided to ignore the threat of possible food poisoning and chose to just sit and be quietly grateful for a bit. As he brought up the cup to his lips to drain it his knuckles brushed against a day’s worth of stubble, which he hated, it made him feel scruffy in a bad way. 

Before long the food was ready and, because it was morning after all, they sat and ate in silence for a while until Daniel noticed the goosebumps on James’ forearm and resumed his always lingering concern. “It’s kind of cold in here, isn’t it? Are you cold?” 

“Nah, I’m f- Okay, a bit, maybe,” James admitted.

“Yeah, figured. If you go into the bedroom in the second drawer of the dresser there’s a bunch of jumpers, you can borrow one. Seriously, it’s fine, I have like a billion” he added a bit more sternly.   
Daniel watched as James cleared his plate and neatly put the cutlery with the handles facing to the right as if they were in a restaurant, after which he briefly disappeared into the bedroom and came out wearing a faded blue sweatshirt.

“Ah, good pick. It’s not even that big on you,” Daniel commented, watching James roll up each sleeve cuff twice. “Okay, maybe it is.”

“Nah, it’s perfect, thank you.” James replied. “Hey, I should probably get to work in a bit, can I help you do the washing up real quick first?”

“Oh no! Dude, you’re my guest, I’m not going to make you do chores. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it, you get to work.” Daniel replied hastily, seemingly horrified by the mere suggestion alone. 

“If you’re sure. Just, thank you for letting me crash and, well, everything.”

“Hey, no worries. You’re always so welcome to stay!” 

James flung his backpack over one shoulder and then, after a brief moment of hesitation, awkwardly turned in for a hug. Daniel surprisedly but gladly accepted and then watched as his friend disappeared down the stairs and out the back door. 

-

25-09-2019  
The Texts:

Daniel looked up from the beat up paperback that’d been captivating his attention for the better part of the afternoon when his phone screen lit up. 

Hey thanks again for lending me the jumper  
It’s like three sizes too big and ridiculously comfortable  
I’ll wash it and drop it off at the store later this week

He smiled, put the novel away and got typing.

Keep it for as long as you like!  
It looks better on you than on me anyway

Sure?

Yeah ofc

Thanks  
For everything

I mean I’d say return the favour sometime  
But you live in the middle of nowhere and I don’t think anything of yours fits me

Haha you’re not wrong

Seriously we’re cool  
It was nice having you over

Yeah I’m a great house guest  
Jk  
K back to work  
Boss wants something

Okay good luck (?)   
See you soonish probably likely

Definitely!

The remnants of that same smile lingered on his face as Daniel went back to his book.


	6. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel has quite a night going to James's work do.

From his spot at the end of the bar, Daniel observed the sea of countless heads that filled the old factory hall that he somehow found himself in on what should have been a quiet Friday night in. When James had casually mentioned that his boss was throwing some kind of event and that he’d been told to being as many people as he wanted, the more the merrier, and that he’d immediately thought of him, Daniel’s first response had been an insistent ‘yes’. Now, he was bitterly regretting that. James had greeted him enthusiastically at the door but then he’d been called away for something, and so for the last half hour Daniel had been hiding in a corner of the venue, feeling his brain go to mush on the beat of a remix of some jazz track that he was pretty sure he had on record somewhere at home. He never did badly at parties, it was just that he didn’t know anyone here, and the upscale artsy crowd that made up the majority of the guest list wasn’t one he felt very comfortable, unlike what one might expect knowing Daniel. While he pondered his apparent social ineptness, the bartender behind him served him a drink. He pointed at a young woman sitting a few stools down, indicating that the drink was from her. When she saw him look over, she slid off her barstool and joined him at his corner of the bar. 

“Did I get it right?” She dove right in. “Apple cider, no alcohol. That’s what you were having, right? I’m Cara, by the way.”

“Yeah that’s right. Daniel,” he added, his confusion getting in the way of a proper introduction. “Eh, why did you buy me a drink?” He felt like he should have an answer to this question, but he genuinely didn’t. 

“Well, that’s what people do, isn’t it? When they see someone at a bar or whatever and they think this person is attractive, they buy them a drink. In the movies it’s usually the man doing it, but screw that.” 

As soon as she said the word “attractive”, Daniel could basically hear the coin drop in his brain, and he immediately felt incredibly uncomfortable. “Oh god that is so nice of you. So sweet. But, I- You’re not really my type.”

“Oh…” Cara’s face dropped instantly and Daniel realised his mistake. 

“Oh no! Sorry, I’m so so sorry, that’s not at all what I meant,” he apologised profusely. “Sorry! Don’t get me wrong, please, you’re very beautiful and you seem really nice, it’s just- I’m kind of- I’m gay,” he stammered. Due to the loud music, their conversation had been shouted up until this point, and the fact that he had to raise his voice made him feel like he’d just come out to the entire party, and probably the entire city for that matter. 

“Well, I can’t argue with that, can I?” Cara laughed.

Daniel saw her smile and felt slightly less anxious. “I can’t believe I just said that,”

“What?!” For a second Daniel thought Cara didn’t understand him, but then he realised she simply hadn’t heard him over the noise. “Come!” she yelled, gesturing at the back exit nearby. 

He obliged, quite happy with the chance to get out of there. 

Behind the back door were some steps that led down to the car park where Daniel had left his car at the beginning of the evening. By the look of things, this was where the venue staff spent their scarce breaks. They sat down on the steps, Cara lit a cigarette and Daniel leaned against the handrail, feeling the cool metal on his face. 

“So did you just say that that was the first time telling anyone you like men?” she asked, more curious than anything. 

“Yep.” He took a long swig from his bottle, as if the non alcoholic liquid was somehow going to make him feel any differently. 

“Wow, well, sorry for putting you in that position,” Cara said before taking a drag. 

“Oh no, please don’t feel bad! You were doing a nice thing, it’s all good. I’ll buy you a drink next, then we’re even. Platonically, though,” he sad with a faint smile. Now, without the sounds and the heat and the bass vibrating through him, Daniel felt a bit more like himself. 

“I feel kind of honoured,” Cara said. 

“Well, I couldn’t leave you thinking I was just trying to insult you, and I couldn’t think of a lie on the spot, and I suppose it’s easier because you’re a virtual stranger.” Daniel shrugged and took another sip of his drink. His dark shirtsleeve, which was too short to begin with, pulled up and revealed the goosebumps on his arm.

“Yeah, that’s fair. Don’t worry, you wouldn’t have insulted me that bad. I kind of did it out of boredom to begin with.”

“I can’t blame you!” Daniel laughed properly now. “Easily the worst party I’ve been to in, I don’t know, a year, at least.” 

“Why are you even here then?” 

“My friend, James, he invited me, and I’m pretty sure I’m also his ride home.” 

“Very convenient,” Cara laughed. “I think I know him, James. He’s Michel’s assistant, right?” 

“Michel? Oh, right, yeah, the painter. Yep. I run an art shop down the street from his studio and he started coming in really often when he got the job.” Daniel smiled as he thought about how James’ visits usually included a fair bit of complaining about his terrible job. 

“Ah, right. He’s my uncle, Michel. He invited me, so here we are. Thank god he’s a painter and not a party planner though.”

“Is he any good, actually? I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever seen anything of his. I know everything he uses, but…” 

Cara grinned and took a drag of her cigarette. “He- I suppose he used to be really good. Probably way before James started working for him. Now he’s just an arrogant old guy who still makes qualitatively decent but not very interesting art.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say anything remotely nice about this guy. Definitely not James.”

“And yet, we’re here at his party, getting more bored by the minute,” Cara sighed as she put out her cigarette.

“Hey, speak for yourself,” Daniel replied. “I’ve had just about all the excitement I can handle for one night.” He pulled up his sleeve deliberately this time, the goosebumps were still there. 

“Oh yeah, right, of course. Hey, for what it’s worth,” Cara started, her smile completely genuine this time. “We met like three seconds ago, but I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, that means a lot. Also thanks for just hearing me out.”

“Least I could do,” Cara shrugged. 

“Hey but, speaking of this horrible party, should we maybe go back in at some point, before people actually start wondering where we are?” Daniel asked, hoping at the back of his mind that James wasn’t worried. 

“Probably a good idea!” Cara got up as fluently as she’d slid off her barstool earlier, and opened the door just a crack. Daniel pulled himself up by the handrail and emptied his bottle with a final swig. 

They reoccupied their spot at the end of the bar as if nothing had happened. 

Quite soon after, James found them. “Hey! I was trying to find you, is everything ok?” he asked, looking slightly concerned. 

“Oh yeah, it’s all good. Cara and I got chatting and just went out for some air. You know each other, right?” It wasn’t technically a lie, and it was certainly an easier explanation than the more honest alternative.

“Yeah, we’ve met.” James turned to Cara. “Nice to see you! It’s definitely been a good while,” he remarked, pleasantly but absently. “You guys having fun?” 

“Hi James!” Cara waved. “Oh yeah, absolutely,” Daniel lied. 

“You hate it, don’t you?” James asked, looking his friend straight in the eye. Cara chuckled in the background. 

“Yeah, a little bit,” Daniel fessed up. “But it’s fine, if you want to stay we can stay a while.”

“Oh god no! Boss guy just had me let his dealer in. I think that concludes my work for the day.”

“Wow your job sucks!” Cara pointed out in her blunt fashion. 

“Yes thank you, I’m well aware,” James said wryly. “So shall we go?” 

“Sounds good!”

“We should hang out sometime,” Cara said to Daniel, very matter-of-factly. It was less of a suggestion and more of a plain statement. 

“I would like that!” Daniel answered. “Let me just give you my number or something, and we’ll keep in touch.” 

Cara had already taken her phone out of her black purse and opened a new contact screen, into which Daniel put his details. “Talk to you soon!” she beamed. 

James and Daniel left through the heavy metal front doors, passed the crowd of smokers by the entrance, and eventually found Daniel's car in the car park. They got in and Daniel enjoyed the quiet for a second before he turned the key. As the car started, the CD he’d been listening to on the way there came back on, and he turned the volume down until it was just background noise. He reversed out of the spot and made his way onto the main road. 

“If you wanna play something else,” Daniel said as he turned onto the motorway. “There’s more CD’s in the glovebox.”

“Nah, it’s cool, I quite like Franz Ferdinand.” James took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, looking a great deal more tired than he had done at the beginning of the night. 

They drove in silence for a while, which Daniel enjoyed massively. He loved the quiet and the dark beyond the little bubble of light from the headlights, it made him feel like his path was only illuminated a few feet ahead of him and that was somehow quite calming. 

He was just mulling over this when Jame spoke up and pulled him back down to Earth, which was probably a good thing as he was still steering a vehicle down a dark road at high speed. “So do you suppose she was flirting with you?” he asked out of the blue, sounding very confused. 

“Who, Cara? Just now when we left?” 

“Yeah, when you guys were exchanging numbers.”

“Oh no,” Daniel laughed. “No, I’m like 98 percent sure she wasn’t flirting with me just then.”

“You know I would’ve genuinely thought so,” James said, still confused. 

Though he wasn’t lost in thought anymore, this conversation didn’t do much to keep Daniel’s attention on the road. He sighed. 

“So I suppose this’d be a good time to tell you something. I, eh, well… I’m gay.” Okay, he thought, that was relatively easy. The earth didn’t implode and the sky hasn’t come crashing down. This isn’t so bad.

“Yeah, and the Pope is catholic,” James replied dryly. “I’m sorry, but it was kind of a no brainer.” he added a bit more sympathetically. 

“Wait, really?” Daniel had to remind himself to keep his eyes on the road and not look over and see if James was pulling his leg or anything. He thought it unlikely, but still… “So you knew? How?” 

“Well, of course I didn’t really know, there’s no assuming these things. But you know, your house plants stay alive longer than any straight man’s I know of, and you have quite a lot of close platonic female friends, and for as far as I know you’ve never been with any woman in the years we’ve known each other. So yeah, I just kind of added all that up.” James shrugged.

“That’s fair, I’m great at keeping plants alive.” Daniel smiled. “Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I feel like I should’ve done. You weren’t all that far off actually, Cara did flirt with me and I was a bit rude to her so I tried to explain myself and I didn’t want to lie so I told her, well, what I just told you,” he blurted. “And it felt wrong to tell someone I’d known for two second and not tell you, so yeah.” 

“I forgive you, Daniel,” James said, sounding too serious to be genuine. “Sorry, poorly timed joke. You didn’t to anything wrong. In fact, this is a pretty big deal right, good on you for doing this.” 

“Thanks,” Daniel said with a sigh of relief. “I kind of hate the whole concept of a coming out, but it feels good not keeping a secret.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. It’s the next exit, by the way, and then a right at the roundabout and-“

“I know where you live.” Daniel interrupted.

They were quiet for a while, as Daniel followed the route that James didn’t have to lay out for him. Not much later he pulled into the street and managed to wedge the tiny Ford into a parking space along the road. “I don’t remember what number you live on, but please tell me I didn’t just park half a mile from your house.”

“No, you’re good. It’s right there, blue door.” James laughed as they got out of the car. Across the pavement, he unlocked the door to number 72A and they took the steep flight of stairs up. 

James flipped the light switch and looked over as he walked into the flat. “Can I get you some coffee or tea maybe?” he asked, already in the kitchen area. 

“Coffee sounds amazing,” Daniel replied, meaning it. He was dead tired from everything that had happened tonight, and he hoped that a dose of caffeine would keep him awake enough until he got home. 

“Just a sec, coming right up!”

As James busied himself in the kitchen, Daniel took the time to have a look around. He’d been here before, but he always forgot how incredibly nice the place was. That's what you get for renting further out of town, he thought, though he needn’t complain living for free over the shop. Perhaps it was the walls, which weren't sloped like his own, or the large windows, but the place felt light and spacious. Next to the living area, without a TV but with an impressive sound system, half of the living room was being used as an atelier, with a large easel set up facing the window, an old table with a meticulously organised set of supplies, and a stack of original works in the corner. Neatly labeled and arranged, Daniel figured, probably chronologically and then by style and subject. Feeling too restless from the drive and the conversation to sit down, he wandered around and had a look first at the half-finished abstract on the easel and then, very carefully, at some of the paintings in the corner. He wasn't necessarily surprised at the quality of the work, as he was always the first one to praise his friend’s artistic skill, but he couldn’t help be mesmerised by it nonetheless. 

“Hey!” Daniel turned around and saw James standing in the middle of the room, a coffee in one hand and a glass of red wine in the other. 

“Oh, just payback for when you grossly mishandled my records last time you were over,” he said smoothly, making sure it was clear that he was joking. 

“I was very careful I’ll have you know,” James said, thankfully going with the joke, “But you’ve been forgiven. Here, your bean water.” 

Daniel gladly took the coffee and they both sat down on the leather sofa, which, he was almost annoyed to admit, was a ridiculous amount more comfortable than his own. 

“I should apologise for inviting you to that dreadful party,” James started, after having made a dent in his wine. “If I knew it was gonna be this bad I wouldn’t have invited you. Also, I thought I was actually going to be able to be there as a guest, but no…”

“Oh no! It’s okay, seriously, you don’t have anything to apologise for. You can’t help it that your boss is literally the worst.” 

“Yeah tonight he was exceptionally terrible. I’m basically an errand boy for a middle aged man child,” James sighed. 

“So quit.” Daniel shrugged matter-of-factly. It wasn’t so much that it tired him hearing James complain about his job day in and day out, it was more that it made him feel bad seeing someone he cared for waste away like that. 

“And then what?” James asked a bit defensively. This wasn’t the first time he’d been told to just hand in his resignation, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. 

“Dude, you have two degrees,” Daniel pointed out rightfully. “You didn’t go to grad school just to do what you do now. You even graduated with honours, right?” 

“Yep. But suppose I were to quit, suppose,” James started. “What would I do then?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Daniel replied slightly sarcastically. “Perhaps any of the various prestigious positions you could’ve taken up straight out of uni? I’m serious, if you sent your CV to, I don’t know, the Tate right now you’d have them blow up your phone tomorrow. Wanna make it a bet?” He realised full well that he was being more assertive about this than was necessary, but he also knew that his friend was the sort of person who’d never take a leap of faith once he was set up fairly comfortably, and he thought that sort of behaviour to be very dangerous. 

“I really think you're being a bit optimistic here. Besides, what if they don’t? Then I wouldn’t have a job or a follow-up job.”

“Hm, maybe sell one or two of those?” Daniel gestured towards the collection of paintings. “I had look, they’re good. And no,” he went on before James could even start. “I’m not just saying that because I'm your friend.”

“I guess it would be nice,” James sighed. 

“Probably nicer than what you’re doing now.” The coffee and the fact that the conversation wasn’t about him seemed to have perked Daniel up a bit, though he realised he might be pushing it a bit. “Okay, sorry, I’ll stop now. I just hate to see you do something you hate.” He barely felt weird for saying this, as he figured it a given that friends didn’t like seeing friends suffer. That was all it was.

“I get it,” James replied quite softly. “But like, don’t you ever wonder if you’re doing the right thing?” he asked.

“You mean in terms of work? Or in terms of everything else? Because yes, to both, literally every day.”

“Seriously? But you do like your job, right?” 

“Oh yes,” Daniel nodded. “But I didn’t know that this was going to be my thing when I suffered through a business degree, and I definitely want to just burn the place down and go do something else from time to time.” He grinned. “Especially right after someone comes in with a question I can’t help them with, and they get angry and ask to speak to the manager, that’s always fun. In all seriousness, I do definitely like it, but I’m well aware I might do something else in a few years. Maybe I’ll take one of those cushy corporate jobs where I’d have to wear a tie every day, who knows.”

“You don’t even own a tie,” James guessed, laughing a bit. 

“True. They’d see right through me.”

This made James laugh more than he had all evening. Whether it was the image of himself in anything more dressy than a button up shirt, or the fact that he was just hilariously funny as is, Daniel was glad to have lightened the mood a bit. He finished his coffee before it had a chance to go cold. 

“Hey, I should go, I’m dead on my feet. Thanks so much for the coffee.” 

“No, thank you for the lift home. And also for the talk,” James replied, the latter sentence almost a whisper. 

“Pleasure’s all mine!” Daniel smiled as he got up and started making his way out. 

When they got downstairs, James went in for a hug. He’d seemingly gotten a lot more comfortable with the whole ordeal, using both his arms and holding on slightly longer than absolutely necessary. Daniel did often not quite know how to express sentiments such as appreciation or affection in verbal manner, and knowing James’ stoic and businesslike manner he’d always worried he would make it awkward, so he was quite happy with this development. “You’re really quite getting the hang of this!” Daniel grinned. 

“Don’t push it now,” James said as he let go. “In any case, get home safe, see you around, all that.”

“Yeah, you know where to find me.”

The late September chill sent a shiver down Daniel’s spine as he paced to his car, but on the inside he felt quite… warm. It’d been a pretty ok night after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our protagonist does great when he's in his comfort zone, but when he's not... In any case, I remember being super proud of him as I wrote his coming out.


	7. The Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James has a really boring free day, with a slightly less boring ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was curious to see what the world looked like from James's point of view. Up until this point I honestly didn't like him all too much, but writing this chapter made me sympathise with him.

As soon as James’ alarm clock sound, which was set to birdsong, he automatically reached over and pressed the button to turn it off. The blackout curtains in the bedroom did their job well enough to allow him to get at least another hour or two of sleep, but the light coming through the matted glass sliding doors opposite the window was strong enough to wake him up. Once he’d arrived at this conclusion, he reached over and grabbed his glasses, which had been neatly folded and placed next to his alarm clock. When he had regained 20/20 vision, he stepped out of bed and made his way into the kitchen, in a straight line towards the coffee machine. Methodically, still without needing to give it any thought, he emptied and rinsed out the portafilter, loaded it up with coffee, pressed the grinds down with the metal stamper, not the inferior plastic one, and twisted the mechanism back into the espresso machine. He placed a cup onto the drip tray, turned the knob and watched the dark liquid come out of the spout. Once the machine was done, after what seemed like an hour to his not yet caffeinated brain, he took his cup over to the sofa and pulled his laptop towards him as he sat down. Like every morning, he read the news and sipped his coffee and then drank it quickly because it had started to go cold, and he concluded that the world was still doing fairly terribly. He put his laptop down and picked up his phone in one fluent motion, to check for any messages. There were none, except for a link to a video of a cat from Daniel, to which he’d have to think up a reply later; he hadn’t had the heart to tell him he wasn’t all that much of a cat person, and the whole thing had sort of escalated beyond his control. The time on his phone screen read 8:50. He hated waking up early, especially on weekends, and however much he hated to admit that waking up at the same time every day helped with his insomnia, it really did. So he suffered through the boring Saturday and Sunday mornings that could have been spent getting blissful shut eye, in favour of feeling like a human being during the rest of the week. He put the empty coffee cup in the sink to be washed later and dashed into the bedroom to change into some sportswear, before heading out the door and down the stairs towards the park. His runs were mainly for mental benefit; he didn’t time them or track the mileage or the speed, nor did he listen to any music. It was a good way to relieve stress, and he’d solved more than one tough problem on a run. The physical aspect needn’t be overlooked though. James didn’t care much for weight loss or getting more muscular, he thought he looked quite all right as is, but he’d noticed that not spending regular nights in the pub, not smoking copious amounts of weed whenever he felt like it, and not avoiding exercise like the plague had definitely done him some good. He still didn’t love working out, but he didn’t hate it either, and he’d come to appreciate the morning runs as part of his routine. When he had circled the park and taken all the main paths through it, he returned home and went straight into the bathroom. He showered, brushed his teeth, flossed, washed his face, shaved and moisturised, in that particular order, only once briefly thinking about how Patrick Bateman could have taken a leaf out of his book.   
After he got dressed and had some breakfast, his fairly uneventful morning turned into an equally uneventful afternoon. He made some good progress on the unfinished canvas that was currently taking up his easel, but he hadn’t a clue whether it was actually turning out to be good. That was the thing with art, James figured, it was so hard to value it as the maker. When Van Gogh committed suicide, he didn’t figure he was going to go down in history as one of the world’s most influential painters, and when Marina Abramovic put on Rhythm 10, she didn’t know she was going to become an institution, a pioneer for her own brand of performance art. Not that James was either of those people, not even close. He was just a guy who put brush to canvas occasionally, creating art according to how he’d been taught art ought to be created. He never felt like his hobby could become a career, even just because he’d grown up being told that it was out of the question, though at the same he realised that he had become, and probably would continue to become, a myriad of things that had been deemed impossible by the people around him. He put that thought to bed just about as quickly as he’d picked it up, because frankly it was far too depressing.   
When he walked back into the living area a while later, having just made some tea, a ray of sunlight hitting the model house that stood on top of the notebook hit his eye. It’d started to collect a bit of dust, as he hadn’t bothered trying to tinker with it for at least a few weeks now. On the one hand, he was afraid of filling it up and forever running out of the paper real estate that promised to fulfil any and all of his dreams. On the other hand, aside from provide him with mediocre tea and hours upon hours of frustrated panic, the notebook had done absolutely nothing for him. Perhaps, he’d figured over time, it was a spatial issue, if the notebook would only realise things in the size that they’d been drawn in. Perhaps it couldn’t even realise anything living. Maybe, and this seemed like the most plausible option, he just didn’t know what he wanted well enough. Of course, he knew what an attractive woman looked like, but it was much harder to sketch someone’s personality, their deepest desires and fears, their favourite food and the music they liked and how many children they might eventually want, if any. That was probably the problem, but he wasn’t quite ready to accept that thought yet, so he kept the notebook there on the windowsill, underneath its creation. The sun went just as quickly as it came, and it left some of that autumnal chill that James’ t-shirt couldn’t quite stand up to, so he reached over and grabbed the jumper that hung across the back of his desk chair. Not so incidentally, it was the faded blue sweatshirt Daniel had told him not to worry about returning; he liked wearing it while painting as it was one of the few pieces of clothing he possessed of which he wasn’t afraid to get it dirty, and also just because it was comfortable. He reached out again, this time for the remote control of his stereo, and played the record that was already in the disk drive. For a while, he just sat and warmed his hands on the teacup and felt the soft terrycloth on his bare arms and the sound of good music drawing out any leftover concerns in his mind, and he felt better than he had all day.   
As the sky slowly started to turn dark, James’ phone screen lit up. Daniel. It had just gone five, he would have just finished closing up. 

Hey, how’s your day?

As he read the message he realised he’d completely forgot to reply to the cat thing this morning, so he got typing. 

Pretty boring tbh  
But good boring  
Don’t worry

Dont worry im not worried, read Daniel’s hasty reply.  
But if you’re bored  
I’m hanging out tonight with a couple friends from uni  
Wanna join?

Business school people? James asked slightly reluctantly.

They can’t help it either  
But they’re really nice  
Just come  
It’ll be fun

I’ll take your word for it, he replied after a minute of mulling it over. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. 

And if it isn’t consider it payback for that party

James began typing with a faint smile  
Fair enough  
But if anyone starts talking about why they vote Tory I’m out

It’ll be fine!  
I don’t know the address off the top of my head but I’ll let you know when we’re there and if you can’t find it just call me or something ok?

Sounds good

See you 9ish?

Great, I’ll be there.

James put his phone back down. It had just gone half five, so he’d have plenty of time to make and have some dinner and freshen up a bit. If he’d had any form of plans whatsoever for tonight he’d happily have turned down the invite, but he figured he might as well attempt to turn the boring day into a slightly more eventful evening.  
He made and ate some pasta, watched an episode of the sitcom he’d been chipping away at for a few weeks just to kill the time, and eventually headed into the bedroom and towards the dresser. He considered just going in Daniel’s sweatshirt, but somehow that felt too… intimate. After all he’d made quite a lot of his recent art in this, and the pub would spoil it, he rationalised. He settled on a checked shirt, buttoned all the way up except for the collar, to go with the jeans he was already wearing. A quick glance at the sky, free of clouds bar a few behind which the sun was setting, made him opt for a lined denim jacket, which was ideal for those autumn days when the weather couldn’t make up its mind. He tried to tame his hair, but ultimately settled for the realisation that he should really just get a haircut sooner than later, and kept some hope that his headphones would flatten the pesky stray bits.   
He headed out well on time, because he hated being late almost as much as he hated waiting to leave so he’d be perfectly on time, and took the brief walk down the street down the stairs into the metro station. It wasn’t all that bad a commute, mainly due to the Strokes playing through his headphones and the fellow passengers, which were few and far between. When he exited the underground on the other end it had started to rain. Not the kind of rain that can feel quite pleasant and refreshing after a warm day, or the kind that you know will blow over because you can see the clouds disappear before your eyes. The sky was lined with dark clouds from horizon to horizon, and the consistent downpour had people hide in their coats and seek cover under trees and in storefronts. James took a second to look around and figure that it wasn’t going to stop raining for a while, so he took off his headphones, folded them up into his jacket pocket and just went out into the rain.  
The pub was a few streets away, and the distance was just enough to get absolutely drenched. As soon as he stepped in the door he took off his jacket, hung it on one of the pegs in the hallway, checked to make sure he hadn’t left any valuables in the pockets, and then checked to make sure he’d actually transferred everything to his jeans pockets. As soon he stepped into the bar, his glasses fogged up, so he took them off knowing he’d likely see more without. It took him a second to try and identify the various dark-haired blurry shapes that could be Daniel, until one of them waved at him from across the room. As he got closer, his friend got sharper.

“Hey, you made it! So good to see you!” Daniel beamed at him. 

“Yeah,” he answered a bit sheepishly, as he was still soaked. “All in one piece and everything.” 

“Sit down!” Daniel continued while James attempted to dry his face and dripping hair with his shirtsleeve. “Can I get you anything?” 

Daniel didn’t have to act on his question, when James sat down a waitress passed by their table and asked if anyone wanted anything. He gladly ordered a Guinness, it wasn’t the most warming thing he could think of having right now, but it seemed a bit odd to start drinking hard liquor at nine in the evening in the company of a bunch of virtual strangers and his teetotal best friend. Having sat down and taken a deep breath, he noticed the pub was actually rather nice; the heating had been turned up, probably to accommodate the wet patrons, and they seemed to have some classic rock playlist coming through the speakers, which he could get with. When he noticed that Daniel, to his right, had started introducing the rest of the people, he turned his focus away from the music and back to the table. 

“So this is Keith, Raj, Mike, and of course Alicia,” he pointed out everyone as he went around the circle anticlockwise, starting with the man to his right and ending with the woman to James’ left. “Is Liz still coming?” 

“Don’t think so,” Alicia chipped in helpfully. “She couldn’t find a babysitter or something like that.” 

“Ah right,” Daniel shrugged. “Anyway, everyone, James.” He contentedly took a sip his tea, having done his part. 

“Nice to meet you all, thanks for having me,” James said with a faint smile. His glasses, lying on the table, were still uselessly wet, and the people he’d been introduced to were just blurs, except for the two sitting closest to them, they were fairly visible. The waitress brought his pint of stout. Keith and Anwar, he thought, resumed their card game and Mike picked up where him and Daniel had left off chatting about something James didn’t bother to try and understand. He took a drink of his beer and thought of a casual sounding comment to make about the weather in order to disrupt the silence that was growing more awkward by the second at his end of the table. 

Thankfully at that point Alicia put her phone down and turned towards him. “So how did you and Dan meet?” 

James couldn’t help be a bit weirded out by the nickname, which he’d never heard anyone use for his friend, but he was glad for the conversation. “I work near the art shop,” he explained. “And I occasionally need stuff from there, so I started coming in on a regular basis, and, well, now we’re here.”

“Oh, cool,” she nodded. “So what do you do?” 

James continued to explain, attempting to make his job sound a little less terrible than it was. 

“So you’re basically a PA?” Alicia asked. “For a painter? How do you even get into that?” 

“At the beginning of postgrad - Fine Art - I figured I should probably try to not become a starving artist right off the bat, so I just started applying to jobs and got this one, and when I graduated it became a full time thing,” James explained. “But way too much about me already, you did the same course as Daniel right?” 

So Alicia started telling about her course and the doctorate she was currently doing, something about business and sociology and some other things James didn’t understand at all, but she laughed and said she totally understood because she herself didn’t know a thing about art. Occasionally Daniel chipped in to give some context to a remark or to sprinkle in some praise on either of his friends. James’ first pint went down well and he realised that he was having a lot more fun than he’d anticipated. When the waitress put down a second glass of stout his focus was taken away from the conversation for a second. He noticed his glasses had dried and weren’t too smudged so he put them on, so glad to be able to see again and eager to get rid of the headache that had started to form around his eyes. This also enabled him to finally properly see the woman he’d been having a conversation with for the better part of an hour, and it struck him how nice she looked. Her hair fell forward over her shoulders in dark braids and she smiled with her whole face. He quickly averted his eyes and took a drink.   
The evening progressed and James hung out with Daniel’s friends and was surprised that they were all so nice, and subsequently embarrassed at his own surprise; Daniel was a great person, why wouldn’t his friends be. After all, there was enough stigma surrounding art students, which always pissed James off to no end. When he was nearing the end of his second beer, people slowly started leaving, muttering stuff about having families and children and family matters and brunch appointments to deal with the next day. Around the same time, Alicia checked her watch and started putting on her coat and grabbing her bag. She said goodbye to the rest and turned to James. 

“Let’s hang out sometime!” she said, as light and bubbly as she’d been all evening. “Go to one of the exhibitions you mentioned maybe. Dan’s got my number.” With that, she was gone. The rest of their company left almost immediately after, and James and Daniel were left on their own. 

“I’m confused,” James turned to his friend. “Is that how people ask people out nowadays?” 

“Nowadays…” Daniel laughed. “Seriously, how long has it been?” 

“Undergrad,” James muttered. “But that’s besides the point.” 

“To answer your question: I’m not sure. But it might well be.” 

James leaned his head on his hand and sighed. “I don’t really want to have to deal with that right now, frankly.” 

“As in, you’re not into the idea?” 

“I don’t know! Genuinely not. But, just… You’ve seen me lately, I’m a mess. Wouldn’t really want to make anyone else have to deal with that.” 

“You look pretty good to me,” Daniel quipped, honest as can be. 

“Well, you’re biased.” 

James looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Daniels long fingers squeezed ever so slightly and it made him feel a bit calmer. “Seriously though, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Call her, don’t call her… I’m pretty sure she won’t be offended either way, I’ve not known her to lose sleep over something like that ever.” 

“Thanks, that’s…” Jame started, his voice hoarse. “I know I should be into it, but I’m just kind of not, you know?” 

Daniel chuckled. “I waited twenty-five years to tell two people I’m gay, so yeah, I suppose it’s safe to say I know what it’s like to feel like I should be into something I’m not into.”

“Oh right, yeah.” That car ride seemed ages ago, James thought. It hadn’t been on his mind much since then, and it almost felt as if it’d happened in a different world.

“She is very attractive, and you two seemed to have a good time, I thought you would…” Daniel was still weighing off the options. “But you can’t force it, of course.” 

“How would you even know?” James asked.

“What, that she’s attractive? I have eyes, you know.” Daniel rolled his eyes as he said this, and in the dim light of the bar they seemed almost amber as opposed to the usual green. 

“Have you ever? You know… With a woman?” James asked, feeling awkward about being curious about such a thing, but not too uncomfortable to ask in the context of their conversation. 

“Had sex?” Daniel laughed. “Yes, James. I used to hook up with a classmate from sixth form, a while into the first year of uni even. We stayed friends. Actually went to her and her wife’s wedding a few months ago.” He sat for a second with the hint of a grin on his face. “I suppose we might have both been figuring out some stuff.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Don’t worry, you didn’t pry!”

“I should thank you though,” James said. “For inviting me and stuff. You were doing a nice thing, even if I’m not into it.” 

Daniel laughed. “It was barely altruistic; these people always bail really early because they actually have lives, and also I just felt like hanging out with you.” 

“Still, thanks.” He went on. “Sorry I haven’t been that much fun to hang out with lately.” 

“Oh no,” Daniel’s voice shot up. “No, you’re perfect man.” 

Before James knew what was happening, he felt Daniel’s arms around him, and saw his empty pint glass fall over on the table. When his friend let go, James picked the glass back up and smiled. “Seems like you’ve had enough,” he said.

“Yeah it was pretty strong tea.” 

With the mood lightened a bit, they sat and chatted for a while, bickered about the remainder of the check, decided to split it equally, and walked to the metro station together. James and Daniel parted ways, and James listened to the Killers while he took the train home. When he shut the front door behind him he didn’t bother turning any lights on in the living room. He hung his still damp jacket on the peg and went straight into the bedroom, closing the sliding door behind him. He changed into some pyjamas and put his clothes in the laundry because they’d gotten wet and then got pub all over them. Not more than ten minutes after he’d gotten in he lay down. His alarm was set, he was dead tired and the sleep wouldn’t come. While the clock struck midnight, then half twelve, then eventually one, he berated himself for overthinking something as simple as a nice conversation with an attractive woman and aninvite for a follow-up date. It couldn’t get much easier than that, right? Yet he didn’t know how to deal with it. Then he berated himself some more for having berated himself in the first place, as that wasn’t productive behaviour and it wasn’t going to help him sleep. Just before two, he fell into a restless slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It was barely altruistic..." Daniel said.


	8. The Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel has a chat with his mum.

“Hey” Daniel said, phone to his ear, as he walked over to the front door and flipped the sign to CLOSED. It was five to five, and the street was as good as deserted, so he dared take the gamble. 

“Daniel! It’s me, your mother” his mum’s warm, high-pitched voice sounded on the other end of the line. 

“I know, ma. Caller ID…” He grinned at the thought of how bad Rosemary still was when it came to anything more technologically advanced than a rotary dial phone. 

“Of course, silly of me.” She laughed, and Daniel thought he heard a fridge door being closed, followed by the sound of wine pouring into a glass.

He pulled the blinds in front of the door window shut and walked over to the back room and lay down on the sofa, his head on the one armrest and his legs on the other. “So how are you?” 

“Oh great, dear! Just splendid… We’re almost done renovating here, the house is coming along lovely.” 

“Ah, that’s great. And Jean-Pierre?” Him and his mum’s boyfriend weren’t especially close, but he was a nice man and needn’t be neglected in conversation. 

“He’s doing good! Really good. The gallery is coming along so nicely too, it’s really taking off,” his mum replied, and it made him genuinely happy to hear. When she started seeing this French gallery owner about a decade ago, she’d remained in London and traveled back and forth a lot, until Daniel was finishing up university and had started to manage the shop more and more independently. He had felt bad for keeping her there just as she had felt bad for leaving, as it had always just been the two of them, but it had been a few years and everything was good now. “But how are you?” she continued. 

“Oh, fine,” he replied casually, glossing over the fact that he was actually quite stressed and overworked. “It’s been busy. Oh, that reminds me,” he added. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, I just remembered.” 

“Go ahead.” He heard his mum take a sip of wine before she put the glass back down. 

“A few months ago, about a month after you were last over, something quite weird happened. I sold someone a notebook that I don’t think we’ve ever stocked any others of before. I found it on the counter and just shelved it. Would you know anything about that?” 

“A notebook, you say?” Rosemary asked. “One of a kind?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure there are no others like it.”

“Hm, let me see. Brown leather bound, roughly A5, gold stamped spine?” 

“Yep, that’s the one.” 

“Oh goodness. Yes! I had it in my bag the last time I was over. Must’ve fallen out when I put it on the counter. Completely unused, indeed. So you sold it?” She seemed awfully coy, Daniel noticed. Didn’t she know?

“Yeah, I did.”

He heard laughter on the other end of the line. “The person why bought it must've gotten an awful fright.” She was still laughing. “Anyone you know?” 

Daniel sighed. Leave it to his mother to downplay anything and everything. “Yes actually, a friend of mine.” 

She seemed a bit more alert now. “Would I know them?” 

He thought for a second. “Maybe, yeah. Actually, probably. Does the name James ring a bell? Dark blond hair, shortish, well, medium height, brown eyes, glasses?”

“Oh yes, I remember James. Of course I do! Comes in quite often, doesn’t he?” 

“Yep.” Daniel wasn't quite sure where his mum was going with this. 

“A rather handsome young man, isn’t he?” she said, with a certain tone to her voice that Daniel couldn’t quite pinpoint the meaning of. 

“I, eh, I suppose. I don’t know.” 

“Or is he not your type?” 

Daniel bolted upright. “Wait what now? I didn’t… I never said…” 

“Oh, dear, of course you don’t need to say anything.” Rosemary laughed. “I’m your mother, it’s my job to know these things.” 

“If you say so.” He sat back down, still a bit on edge, but glad that he didn’t seem to need to say anything more on the matter. Though he’d gotten significantly more comfortable having this kind of conversation over the past few months, he still much preferred not talking about himself any more than strictly necessary. “So about the notebook,” he derailed. “I have so many questions. How did you get it? What do you know about it?”

“It’s a rather peculiar little thing,” she started, and Daniel heard the sound of more wine being had, along with some footsteps and soft jazz in the background. “I found it at a flea market. There was this lady - you could say she was a bit weird, but she had good energy. Yes, just a really nice positive energy. And she said something about it, as I was having a look at her stall. What was it - she said something about it had the possibility to make anything drawn in it appear so lifelike. I thought she meant it was just high quality paper or something. Then she said that it would only work if the artist was sure of themselves. I figured that might mean they’d just need a steady hand, but apparently not. So it… did something?” 

“Wow, that is just crazy. Yes it did. So far just cups of tea, and mediocre ones at that. He tried with something more… substantial, but nothing worked.” 

“Hm, yes, I see, I see…” There was a pause on his mum’s end of the line. “I suppose,” she commenced. “that with something as simple as a cup of tea, it’s quite easy to know what you want. It doesn’t get much more concrete than that, you see what I mean? But if it’s something with more elements to it, more substance, it’s more difficult to know what you want, or what you might need. And then, maybe the thing you want or need already exists, and if that’s the case then how is a piece of paper going to match reality?” 

Daniel just sat and listened. Strangely, this gave him more to think about than the actual appearance of actual objects out of actual thin air that had happened in this same room a few months prior. “So what you’re saying is that it’d be much more difficult for this notebook to manifest something more abstract, let’s say a person, because there’s more elements to the creation of something so abstract?” 

“Yes, exactly!” his mum replied with a tinge of annoyance, as if she’d been explaining him basic maths, as opposed to her take on the creation of life. Typical. “You read a fair bit of literature, you’ll know, sometimes it takes an author years or even decades to craft a character. And even then, that’s just a two-dimensional shadow of a person, not an actual person. So to encompass all those factors that make a human being in a single drawing would be madness, no?” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Daniel said, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Sorry, I haven’t got a lot right now. What you say makes a lot of sense, I’ll just need some time to mull it over.”

“Don’t worry about it!” Rosemary quipped as she filled up her glass, judging by the sounds of things. “It was just my thought on the matter. Are you sure you’re alright though?” 

“Yeah, quite all right,” Daniel lied. “I was wondering though, were you planning on coming to London at all? And if you were, would you take over here for a few days? I don’t think I’ve had a break since, I don’t know, April, maybe. You know we’ve been collaborating with this conservator? Great idea, lots of new business both ways, but a side effect is that I’m basically managing his agenda along with my own, and all together it’s been a lot.” 

“Oh dear, yes, I see how that might be a bit of a problem. I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” she started. “The shop was going to outgrow itself eventually. That’s the hope, right? Means things are going well. Don’t you want to hire someone?” 

“I’ve thought about it, but I don’t know if we could take on someone and expand at the same time, that seems risky.” 

“Ah yes, I see. You know I trust you with these things, right?” she asked, sounding concerned.

“Of course, ma. Thank you.” 

“As I said, I’ve been thinking… Why don’t you sell the second painting? That ought to give you some breathing room, make that whole expansion idea a bit less risky.” 

“Are you sure?” Daniel asked. It was certainly an unexpected proposition, and he’d be reluctant to accept too quickly. 

“Oh definitely! It’s just been collecting dust up here in the attic. It’s not like I’m going to hang it on the wall.” She laughed bitterly. “No, honestly, it was always going to be for you, and if now is the time, so it shall be.” 

“Do you think it’ll still sell?” he asked hesitantly. 

“I would imagine so, I’ve been keeping an eye out. But you know what, why don’t I ring Jacob somewhere over the next few weeks. He sold the first one, so he’d be a good place to start. If he wants it, you can take it back to London. How does that sound?” 

“Good, that sounds good,” Daniel sighed. The sheer thought of a break, be it literal, financial or emotional, made him feel warm inside, as if he was proactively getting less stressed as a result. 

“I’ll let you know about that. In any case, you are coming over for Christmas, right?” 

“Of course, ma. Wouldn’t miss it.” The sudden shift to trivialities such as Christmas put a smile on his face. It was so like his mum to talk about selling the painting as casually as she’d talk about the Christmas plans.

“You know, if you need a break… We were hoping you would house sit over New Years.”

“I’d be so happy to.” Daniel said, meaning it. “I’m sure that wouldn’t be too much of an issue with the shop.”

“Perfect! So you’ll come over for Christmas, stay a bit longer, have a relax, get some fresh air. I imagine we’ll be in Italy until the fifth, at least, so you’ll have the place for yourself. You could even bring that handsome friend of yours, if you want.” 

“Mum-”

“All right, all right, just a thought.” Rosemary laughed in the way she sometimes did at her son when she thought he was being too rigid. “In any case, I’ll keep you posted about Jacob and all that. Let me know roughly when you’ll be coming over, okay?”

“Yep, will do.”

“Make sure to sleep enough, eat well…” she went on. “Don’t forget to have fun…” 

“Love you too, ma,” Daniel laughed. 

“And I you!” With that, she hung up. 

Daniel lay back on the sofa and stared at a water stain on the ceiling shaped vaguely like the Tower of Pisa. The conversation had given him a lot of relief and a lot to think about, like most conversations with his mum ended up doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. Love. Rosemary. Had so much fun writing her and seeing Daniel react to her.


	9. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James spends Christmas in his hometown, is miserable, gets high, and gets a surprising invitation.

Fed up, that’s what he was. At this point, he’d been at his parents’ house for all of four days, and it had been more than enough already. He seemed to always forget how much he hated being back in Bath, so every summer and winter he’d happily plan to come over, only to bitterly regret the whole ordeal after day two. It wasn’t all bad; he met up with his friends from boarding school, which was quite fun, though he felt himself relating less to them with every year that went by, as they’d all gone to study, graduate, marry, breed and move to the country, or some version of that. Of course, seeing his sister was always nice, but so far this winter break Cecily’s face had most often been buried in a seemingly ever growing stack of maths and statistics course books, and he hadn’t gotten much of a chance to catch up with her yet.   
Christmas was always a fairly sober affair at the Wright household, and after lunch on Boxing day James found himself in his childhood bedroom with nothing to do. Over the past few days he had spent more time in church than he cared to do in a year, or at all if it were truly up to him. More things he couldn’t relate to anymore. He listlessly started packing some of the clothes from his dresser back into his bad. He didn’t know when he was going back yet, but it would probably be sooner than later.   
Reaching into his sock drawer, he felt his fingers touch upon some cold metal. Almost surprised that it was still there, he took the tin out of the drawer and sat down on his bed, thanking some past version of himself for hiding it there. The contents of the bicycle tire patching kit had long been replaced, and from a quick glance he estimated there was enough weed left to get two joints out of. He slipped the tin into his pocket and went downstairs, announcing to his sister that he was going for a walk. She looked up from her notes just long enough to reply “Okay” and give him a brief smile. His parents kept a stash of those pint sized plastic bottles of water in the garage, and he put one in his coat pocket before heading out onto the street and towards the forest. He walked uphill for about fifteen minutes, watching the trees grow denser around him, and eventually took a left into a path that didn’t belong to the official walking route. About half a mile down the not-path, he found it. He couldn’t quite call it his tree trunk, as over the years people had carved names and dates into it, and one kind soul had even carved out somewhat of a seat in the wood, but he’d never seen another person here, so he was happy to claim it for the time being. He sat down, and before too long he had fashioned a joint out of the contents of the tin. There was apparent a God and He was merciful, James thought, because the lighter from the kit still worked despite having been in there unused for years.   
He lit up, inhaled sharply and watched the smoke mix the foggy condensation of his breath as he exhaled. There was a certain irony to being twenty-five and hiding from your parents to get high in a forest, he full well realised. Not that he minded all too much, this still beat sitting at home and listening to his mum not-so-casually talk about her friends’ single daughters, such nice young women, or count the times his dad talked about younger colleagues or friends’ sons, such hard working established young gentlemen, the world could really do with a few more of those. He listened to the birds and tried not to think about all that he was not for a while. The weed, which had gotten stale and was generally inferior to the stuff he occasionally indulged in back home, wasn’t having too much of an effect, but he felt the edge of his anxious mind blur and quieten a bit.   
He drank some water and then pulled his phone out his pocket. No messages, but surprisingly enough he had three bars of signal. Before his brain caught up with what his hand was doing, he had gone to his contact list, selected Daniel’s name, and pressed the call button. 

“Hey,” Daniel answered in his usual fashion. 

“Hey,” James said. Now that his brain had caught up, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. 

“What’s up?” his friend asked, sounding ever so slightly worried. 

“Nothing much, just wondering how you were doing.” James recomposed himself. He noticed his voice sounded quite a bit more hoarse than normal, and he was hoping it wouldn’t be audible. 

“Pretty ok!” Daniel started. “Yeah, quite good. Taking a bit of a break; the shop has been hectic lately, so much so that I’ve been thinking I might need to hire someone. So yeah, it’s quite nice to not be worrying about that.” James heard a door close on the other end of the line.

“Yeah makes sense. Oh, now that you mention it, I know someone who’s out of a job.” The piece of news that James had suppressed for the sake of not ruining Christmas came back to him all of a sudden. He had yet to tell his parents, knowing that was going to be a conversation he was very comfortable not ever having. 

“Really? Are they any good?” 

“They’re me,” James laughed. 

“Wait, what? You quit your job? Wow, that’s… That’s a big deal, James.” 

“Kind of is, isn’t it? I asked for the week between Christmas and New Years off. You know the overtime I’ve been doing; he ought to have given me the first half of next year off. And he got mad, like proper shouting and the works. So I quit. On the spot.” 

“Wow,” Daniel actually sounds impressed. “Nice, good for you!”

“Yeah, I figured I might actually try my hand at being an artist. Everyone’s always said it’s not a proper job, but I’m not going to know if it can be until I try right?” 

“Right! So, eh, did you call to tell me this?” 

“Oh, no, not at all actually… I, eh- I was wondering if you’re going to be in London for New Years.” James sighed. “I’m kind of in Bath right now and I’m going a bit crazy, and I-”

“You’re kind of in Bath?”

“I’m entirely there; I don’t know why I said it like that.” Daniel laughs on the other end, but doesn’t say anything. “And I was wondering if you’d be in town?” James continued. 

“No actually,” Daniel replies. “Sorry! I’m at my mum’s for Christmas and she’s asked me to house sit their place through into the first week of January because they’re going on holiday… I didn’t really feel like being alone in London either, so I figured why not be alone in France.”

“I see,” James said. “Makes total sense, sorry I asked!”

“Nothing to be sorry about!” Daniel blurted. “I totally get it.” He hesitated for a second before he spoke up again. “Why don’t you come over?” 

“What, to France?” James laughed.

“Yeah, why not. It’s not like you have a job to go to. If you’re in Bath, it shouldn’t be too far to Bristol airport. I can’t imagine all the flights to Bordeaux are full. I’ll come pick you up, it’ll be fun!” 

“You know, that’s a pretty outrageous idea.”

“Yeah, it is a bit. Just an idea, too.” 

Perhaps it was the weed, James thought, or the fact that people had been on his case about how he should be living his life all week, but he rather liked the sound of hanging out with his friend rather than wasting away on his own in his flat or staying at his parents’ longer than strictly necessary. “You know what, I’ll do it. I’ll come over.”

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah, totally. I’m not home right now, so when I get there I’ll have a look at flights and logistics and stuff. I’ll let you know when I should be able to get to Bordeaux, probably tomorrow or the day after.” 

“Are you sure?” Daniel asked hesitantly. James figured it probably seemed unlike him to agree to something like this, because it was. 

“So sure. As you said, it’ll be fun. Should I worry about a return flight?” he added. 

“Well, I drove here, you can drive back with me of course.” 

“Yeah, sounds good. Okay, great, I’m going to hang up now and get home and sort some stuff out. I’ll keep you posted, ok?” 

“Very ok!” Daniel laughed. 

James hung up as he said, feeling a bit more lucid. He put his phone, water and tin box away, got up and made his way out of the forest. When he got home, he was relieved to not see his dad’s Volvo station in the driveway yet. The sun hung slightly lower in the sky and his sister had abandoned her books. 

“Hey there!” she chirped as James walked into the kitchen. “I was just getting the kettle on. Would you like some tea too?” 

“Please, I’d love some.”

“You know,” Cecily said as she glanced over at her older brother. “You shouldn’t do that too much, it’s not very good for you.” 

“Neither is being stressed,” he rebutted quickly. He would often forget how perceptive his sister was, and she would remind him just as often. 

“Fair point,” she said as she put a mug down in front of him on the kitchen table. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“A bit, yeah. Don’t worry, no bad news. I just wish I’d told you sooner, but I didn’t want to over the phone and Christmas has been so hectic, especially with exam prep and everything.” 

“It’s fine, I can see how busy you are. What is it?” He couldn’t think of a particular piece of good news that’d be worth sitting down for; Cecily was the kind of person who treated her successes as givens. 

“Chris and I are getting married,” she said after a pause.

James just stared, trying to gather his thoughts. It made sense, but he would never have guessed it. “Wow, that’s… Sorry, I’m a bit-”

“Stoned, yeah, I noticed,” Cecily laughed.

“No. Well, yeah. I mean, congratulations! That’s amazing!” he said finally, and through his surprise he genuinely meant it. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course! I’m happy for you, promise. It makes sense, come to think,” James reasoned.

“In a sense, yes,” she agreed. “We’ll both be done studying by the end of the academic year, and then Chris will go on to be a reverend. It just seemed like the right time. I’m so glad you’re not, like, upset. You know your opinion means a lot to me.”

In a gesture similar to the one Daniel would use to calm him down, he reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. “I meant it, I am happy. If anyone’s going to know how to live your life it’s you, and it sounds like you made the right call.” It was the sort of thing he would have liked to hear, James realised, and judging by his sister’s smile it seemed to have an effect. “By the way,” he added in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit. “I still find it hilarious that your boyfriend - fiancé, I should say - is a reverend named Christian.”

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?” Cecily rolled her eyes. 

“Nope, absolutely not.” 

“Well, save it for the wedding speech.” 

“Oh god, yeah, that’s going to be a thing.” He hesitated for a second. “Do you suppose that’d be a good time to tell mum and dad I quit my job?” he joked.

His sister’s eyes went wide. “You did what?” 

“I wasn’t planning on it either, but it just sort of happened and frankly I’m quite relieved. I know they’re not going to be too over the moon though.” 

“So you’re going to try to be an artist then?” She knew, she always did. 

“That’s the plan. Give it six months or so, I’ve got some savings. If it doesn’t work I’ll figure something out.”

“That sounds like a plan. Not a solid one, but definitely a plan. Also, way to distract from my grand announcement.” 

“Sorry,” James laughed. “Have you guys set a date yet?” 

“Nah, though we’re thinking late summer or autumn next year. So far I’ve just been trying to stop mum making such a big deal out of it.” Trust Cecily to take her pragmatism all the way to her own wedding. 

“Well, it is kind of a big deal though,” James countered.

His sister laughed. “You know, being stoned is making you sentimental.”

“Hey, maybe I’m just happy that this gives mum and dad a reason to stay off my case for a while.” 

“That’s some wishful thinking.” 

“Yeah, I know, too wishful.” James finished his tea. “I think I’ll just leave before mum gets her way and sets me up with any of her church friends’ daughters. Actually, I should probably get booking a train ticket.” 

“London Calling, eh?” 

“Something like that. Actually, a friend of mine is house sitting his parents’ place in France, and he invited me over and I figured why not, so I’m going straight there.”

“France! Why not, right. You go enjoy that, you deserve a bit of a break,” his sister replied warmly. 

“You know, Cecily,” James laughed. “I think not being stoned is making you sentimental.” 

“Nah, I saved it all up. You’re getting a year’s worth of sentiment in one go. Enjoy it while it lasts.” 

At that point, they heard their parents’ car pull into the drive, causing James to quickly get up and announce that he was going to take a shower and sort some stuff out. 

The next morning at the train station he hugged his sister, kissed his mum on the cheek and awkwardly shook his dad’s hand before he set off towards the airport. There he texted Daniel his flight details, had a sandwich that brought him right back to boarding school, washed it down with a coffee that miraculously managed to be strong, bitter, acidic and watery at the same time, and eventually boarded the plane without too much hassle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They want to spend New Year's together. That's all, I just wanted to emphasise that.


	10. France Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A man gets kidnapped to a cabin in the woods. Another man drinks alcohol for the first time in a long time.

Daniel had always loved airports. He liked how it was always every time of day all at the same time at any given airport, and it made him happy to see people being reunited with the people who’d been waiting for them. He enjoyed the sort of good nervous feeling he always got picking someone up from the airport, even though there was no surprise element involved and he’d been through the ordeal a thousand times already. Flying, however, was a whole different story. He knew it was probably going to happen one day, but that day was not this Christmas break, and he happily made the incredibly long drive to avoid having to get on a plane.   
It was surprisingly busy around dinnertime in the arrivals terminal at Bordeaux airport on the Friday after Christmas, but he easily spotted James in the crowd of people coming through the sliding doors. He waved from his spot at the back of the group of people waiting, to avoid possibly getting in the way of someone else greeting their spouse or child or friend. 

“Hey, you made it! Let me get that.” Daniel took the bag that James reluctantly handed over. 

“Well, yeah. From departing onwards it’s not really a question of whether I was going to make it.” 

“I know, I know. But still, I was sort of surprised you actually came over. Anyway, how was the flight?”

James yawned. “Flight was fine. Short.”

“Hey so I was thinking,” Daniel went on. “We could spend many euros and have dinner somewhere around here, or wait a bit and I’ll cook once we’re home.” 

“The latter. Definitely the latter. I’m an hour behind anyway, food can wait.” 

They made their way towards the car park, where Daniel threw James’ bag in the boot of his tiny hatchback before they made their way out of the complex. It was quiet for a while, and as he merged onto the motorway he glanced over and found James fast asleep. He smiled, turned the music down and drove on. The road was pretty much empty, and roughly twenty minutes later he hit the unpaved driveway at his mum’s place. James woke up from the bumpiness, blinked a few times and looked around for a second, noticing the darkness all around. 

“So where exactly are you kidnapping me off to?” he asked. 

Daniel laughed. “Just your regular ordinary cabin in the woods. We’re there, actually.” He parked the car to the side of the house, got out, and unlocked the front door. “Got your bag?” 

James didn’t answer. Daniel saw his eyes widen as he walked in. “You lied,” he said with a smile. “This is far from average.”

“Okay, it’s not too shabby.” That was still toning it down quite a bit. The two story wooden house, with its large fireplace, thick rugs and ceiling high bookcases, was more than nice. “If you wanna put your stuff away, second door to the left upstairs is yours. The bathroom is next door. Oh, and the wifi password is on the dining table. I’ll go ahead and get some food on.” 

He heard James go upstairs and shuffle around a bit while he busied himself in the kitchen. The airport pickup nervousness hadn’t quite left him yet and he was glad his hands had something to do to occupy his mind. At some point James came strolling back into the kitchen. “Can I help?” he asked. 

“Nope,” Daniel answered. “You can help by having a relax, you look like you need one.” 

James leaned against the countertop. “Yeah, it’s been some Christmas. I always forget how often my family actually attends church. By the way, from what I gathered you’re definitely going to hell.” 

“Well, yeah, of course,” Daniel replied without so much as blinking. He heard James’s wry laugh and smiled faintly. “Do you happen to know which circle? Just so I know what to pack, you see.” His mum had always strongly avoided bringing him up with any sort of religious involvement, which had led him to find Christianity quite ridiculous as a concept. He felt like he understood why people believed in something; his mum was more superstitious than she liked to admit and he’d unwillingly inherited some of that, but he couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of some bearded man in the sky waiting to send him to eternal torture for being attracted to guys. 

“Seriously though,” James continued. “Thanks for having me. To be fair, hadn’t I been quite stoned when we were on the phone I probably wouldn’t have gone through with it, but I’m glad I did, it’s lovely being here.” 

It didn’t take too much deductive reasoning to figure that some part of James’s happiness related to Daniel’s presence, which made him feel… something. He didn’t have the mental capacity to process anything more profound at the moment, and besides he was busy cutting chicken into evenly sized strips. “I figured as much,” he said, referring to the mention of intoxication. “You sounded kind of loopy, but not like when you’re drunk. Oh, speaking of, there’s white wine and I believe some beers in the fridge. Red in the wine rack by the liquor cabinet. And of course non alcoholic stuff. Just take whatever you want.”

“Thanks. I’m good for tonight, way too tired.” 

“Yeah.” Daniel laughed as he combined the chicken and some pesto in a pan. “I was wondering how come you barely sleep in your own bed, but five minutes in a twenty year old Renault Clio and you’re out like a light.”

“I don’t know man. It’s either magic, years of sleep deprivation finally catching up, or I’m just tired from travelling all day.” 

“Magic, must be. Also I lied earlier, you can help. There’s cutlery in the drawer next to the fridge, and plates in the cupboard above it, could you get some and sort of set the table? I’m very nearly done here.” 

Daniel drained the pasta he had boiled and combined it with the chicken mixture and seemed quite happy with the result. They ate in silence. Afterwards Daniel decided to leave the washing-up for tomorrow because he too was tired, and opted to get some tea on instead. He took up the corner of the buttoned leather sofa that he’d started to claim as his own and watched James warm his hands on a mug of tea. Before too long, they decided to call it a night.

-

The next few days went by quietly, as well deserved holidays can do. As they explored Bordeaux and went down the opposite way to the beach and respectively sketched and read in the quiet confinement of the cabin, Daniel felt himself relax more than he had over the past half year. It was nice to not spend every waking minute of his days worrying about other people’s needs. He read a few novels, which is something he had missed doing on quiet days in the shop as the quiet days had slowly started to disappear. In a way, it relaxed him seeing James grow less anxious. Since the whole business with the notebook had begun, the topic had been at the back of his mind most of the time. And yet, something continued to make him feel uneasy, this dark, sweet feeling at the bottom of his stomach that he couldn’t quite pinpoint the cause of.   
New Years rolled around the corner as it tends to do after Christmas. The sky coated the forest around the cabin in a thin layer of snow in what felt like a parting gift from the 2010s. 

“It’s not going to stick, it can’t. It’s not even freezing,” James said as he dried off the pan that Daniel had just washed. 

“Go ahead, be a pessimist. I say it’ll stick.”

The last hours of the year had arrived, the ones where you never quite know what to do with yourself. They had opted not to go out or make much of a fuss of the change of years, because in a way they had both escaped London for that exact reason. Daniel looked over and saw James help himself to a second glass of red wine from the bottle he’d opened with dinner, which reminded him of something. 

“Hey, I forgot but I just remembered, my mum left a bottle of champagne in the wine rack. As a thanks for house sitting, she said. But she knows I don’t really drink, so it’s probably more a thanks to you for putting up with me.” He laughed. “I have no clue if it’s any good, but if it is, have it!” 

James went over to the wine rack and inspected the bottle in question. His eyes went a bit wider. “Are you sure she didn’t actually say not to have this under any circumstance whatsoever?” he asked hesitantly. “This is a vintage. Like, it’s not supermarket wine.”

“No, I’d remember if that was the case. Go ahead, I’m sure it’s fine.”

James whistled. “Rosemary doesn’t mess around. Well, if it’s all the same to you…” He carefully laid the bottle down in the fridge. 

For the next couple of hours they chilled while the champagne did. James entertained Daniel with anecdotes about some of his friends’ crazy lives, and the announcement that his sister was marrying the country’s most appropriately named reverend. 

“What’s he called then?” Daniel asked. 

“Christian…”

Daniel laughed, loudly. “That’s good, yeah. She’s quite young though right, to get married?” 

“Twenty-two, she’s three years younger than me.” James sighed. “She seems to know what she’s doing, she tends to, but it’s going to be so weird seeing her get married.” 

“Yeah, I can get that, I think. Of course I don’t have siblings, but still.” 

“Your mum’s partner has children though right? Or, well, children… You know what I mean.”

“Yeah I get you.” Daniel briefly thought of Jean-Pierre’s son, at whose him and his mum were spending New Years. “They’re nice, but we only met when we all kind of had our own lives already. His oldest son has kids of his own. You should’ve seen my mum’s face when she told me she was going to be a grandmother before fifty.” He chuckled. Rosemary was quite motherly, but her parenting style had always been rather laissez-faire, and nobody including herself saw her as a grandma. 

They chatted into the new year, until James checked his phone and saw that it was almost half one. “Oh well, we’re right in the middle of the British New Year and the European one,” Daniel shrugged. “Happy New Year.”

“Right back at you. Is this when we hug or something?” 

“Nah.” Daniel leaned his head back on the armrest of the sofa. “I’m quite comfortable as is.” 

Instead, James went into the kitchen. Daniel watched him open the bottle of champagne without wasting a drop, before he poured himself a flute and took a sip of the pale yellow sparkling liquid. “That’s… yeah. Wow.” 

“Very eloquent, James. Can I try? I’ve had champagne maybe once, at graduation or something, and I remember it being terrible.” 

“This is not terrible.” James handed him the flute. 

Daniel carefully took a small sip, and then another one to confirm what he was actually tasting. “‘Wow’ just about covers it. That’s really good. Could I have a glass?” 

“Of your own booze?” James laughed, took another glass out of the cupboard and poured up. 

They sat and drank in silence for a while. While it wasn’t particularly strong or much, Daniel felt the alcohol get to his head, making him feel fuzzy and restless. When James went to refill his own glass, Daniel got up and paced towards the back door. The lights from inside the house reflected in the glass pane and obscured the view he’d been hoping for, so he opened the door and leaned in the doorpost. When James walked back into the living area Daniel beckoned him over. “You should come see this.” He pointed upwards. “Look, no light pollution.” The sky was dotted with thousands, millions of perfectly visible stars, constellations, and a bright white crescent moon. “I, eh, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” Daniel started. 

“What is it? "James asked, blissfully obliviously. 

Daniel decided the cold air wasn’t sobering enough to make him stop, shrug it off and continue with his life, so he went on. “A while ago I asked my mum about the notebook. Since it’s pretty much one of a kind and it just appeared in the shop, I figured she might know something.” 

“Okay.” James frowned. “And did she?” 

“Not much more than you’d already figured by the time you told me about it. She lost it when she was last in London, I shelved it by accident. I don’t think she believed anything was too special about it until I told her what it did and didn’t do.” He scraped his throat. “And she said something about how it was probably much more difficult to manifest something like a person, because you can’t draw the essence of someone’s entire being. Not even you.” James looked like he was about to say something, but Daniel persevered. “And that got me thinking… You can’t really know whether you’re attracted to someone on paper, right? You’ve just kind of got to know it. A bit like this…” Before he could stop himself, he leaned over and kissed James, who had been looking up at him while he spoke. 

The kiss lasted for the longest second ever recorded in human history, before James broke contact and took a step back into the house. He didn’t look angry so much as confused. “Did you just,” he stumbled. “Did you just kiss me in order to make a point?” 

Daniel sighed. “Mainly because I wanted to. I’ve been wanting to.” 

“I, eh… Yeah, I’m going to go to bed.” James mumbled. He left his half full champagne glass on the dining table and hasted his way upstairs. 

Daniel was frozen in the doorstep. Before he could compose himself and respond, James was gone. The chilly air coming from outside sent a shiver down his back, there were goosebumps on the part of his wrist that wasn’t covered up by his jumper. He closed and locked the door behind him and picked up the champagne flute, taking it back to the kitchen and pouring the rest down the drain. He slumped into his corner of the sofa and waited until any noises upstairs were gone before he went up himself. While he brushed his teeth he couldn’t avoid his reflection in the mirror. Dark circles, dark curls, dark moody facial expression. He quietly scolded himself as he changed into some nightwear and lay down in bed. Stupid fucking move, Daniel. Should’ve just left it like it was. This internal monologue went on until he drifted into a restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He did that.


	11. France Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel and James have a chat. We find out Daniel's backstory. Rosemary proves that she's always right.

When Daniel woke up the next morning it took about five seconds for the events of last night to come flooding back to him. His phone told him it was quarter past eight, which meant he would have gotten the better part of five hours of sleep. He sighed, figured he might as well brave whatever was waiting for him, and changed into some jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie before he went downstairs. There he found the house completely empty, which got him worried for a minute until he had a proper look around. On the side table by the sofa lay a laptop, sketchbook and pencil case, neatly arranged; items James wouldn’t wilfully part with. What could he have used the laptop for? Daniel wondered as he wandered into the kitchen. To book a plane ticket? He resorted to making some coffee, impatiently watched the grounds and the hot water combine in the french press and hastily pushed down the filter. Pacing around the room and burning his mouth of coffee didn’t solve anything, so he sat down and picked up the paperback copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray that he’d left on the table sometime last night. Under any other circumstance, Wilde’s flowery imagery would have a soothing effect, but this morning it didn’t do the trick. Somewhere towards the end of his second coffee he realised he’d read the same line four times when the front door closed softly. Daniel looked up, James stood in the middle of the room, in running gear with bright red flushed cheeks from the bitter cold outside. 

“You know,” James started, gesturing at the cover of the book Daniel was still holding. “Some of my favourite paintings are a set of portraits by Marlene Dumas, of Oscar Wilde and his, eh, lover.” Daniel frowned; James didn’t sound particularly hostile, but he hadn’t a clue where this was going. “I don’t know if they’re currently up anywhere like the Tate or the National Portrait Gallery, but if they are we should go see them. I think that’d be considered a date.” James smiled faintly. 

Daniel didn’t move, he couldn’t. His tongue was tied and his brain was numb and even if he’d been able to come up with the right words to say he wouldn’t have known how to get them out. 

James sat down on the sofa. “So I did some thinking while I was not sleeping last night, and then some more while I was running just now, and… Well. At first I really wanted to argue with you about what you said last night. But I can’t, because you’re not wrong. In fact, you’re very right.” Daniel knew James was looking at him, but he didn’t quite register it. “Okay, please say something, I’m all out.” 

Snap out of it, man! He’s going to think you’re dim at this rate. Daniel’s inner voice was back with a vengeance. Just say something, anything. So he did. “I, eh, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say, except that I am sorry. I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”

“No, I’m actually quite glad you did. Sometimes people don’t know that they want something until they get it.”

“So you’re saying…?” 

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.” James laughed. Daniel realised the tables had turned; he always had a joke, or some advice, or something like a vague proverb at hand, but now he couldn’t even form a sentence. James went on. “I need a shower, and then we should probably talk about this a bit. But first, that thing you did last night, could you just do that again?” 

Come on, he’s telling you to kiss him! As if on automatic pilot, Daniel leaned forward and they locked lips. Far too soon, James let go. “Yeah, now I definitely need a shower. A cold one.” He flashed a bright smile and then quietly took himself upstairs. 

Daniel sat back on the sofa for five very long minutes or five very short decades, he wasn’t sure. Even though this was probably the best he’d felt in actual ages, he didn’t love the lack of control caused by his brain temporarily shutting down, so he took himself into the kitchen to do something he could control. As he put the kettle on, he heard the shower being turned off upstairs. Not too long after, James appeared in the kitchen looking tired but fresh. 

“Hey, I didn’t know if you wanted tea so I made you some, if you don’t want it just leave it.” 

James picked up one of the mugs. “That’s your solution for everything, isn’t it? Making tea…”

“Well, yes. Take the man out of England and all that. But I also needed to give my hands something to do.” He held up his left hand horizontally, palm down, so James could see the slight tremble. 

“So, you like me.” James said when they eventually sat down on opposite ends of the sofa, facing each other. 

“I like you.” Daniel could feel his cheeks burning, but it felt good to be able to say. 

James took a sip of tea. “You know, I’m quite surprised.” 

“I’m surprised you're still here. Why are you surprised?” 

“Well, you’ve been hearing me complain about not having a girlfriend for far too long,” James answered with a wry smile. 

“Honestly, that probably only added to it. After a while it started to sound like it was just something you thought you wanted, but you didn’t ‘cause if you did you could’ve just gotten it.” He shrugged, full well aware that he was making this sound a lot simpler than it was. 

“Yeah, I spent a pretty good chunk of last night trying to argue that that was not the case, what you just said. But then at some point I ran out of arguments.” James sighed, deeply. “As you probably know by now, I don’t often know what I want. That’s why I’d been holding onto this shitty job for years and just keeping everything as it’s always been, because it’s passable. But I think I’m done with passable. And then when I couldn’t really argue with myself anymore, I got thinking. You’re always the person I want to talk to about stuff, and I really didn’t love seeing you be all friendly with that guy. Oh, and for what it’s worth, I did really like when you kissed me. I just didn’t anticipate I would so I didn’t know what to do.” 

“And you’re surprised I like you?” The idea was almost laughable, but Daniel kept a straight face. “Listen to yourself. You’re like the smartest person I know, just laying this all out-”

“Do I get bonus points for having had approximately an hour of sleep?” 

“Yes, and because you're being really genuinely very nice about this, and in general. Oh, and you’re pretty handsome, to be fair. Icing on the cake.” 

“You’re a terrible liar.” 

“Yeah, I would be, as I’m not lying.” Daniel laughed. This all made perfect sense to him, and he was almost surprised it didn’t to James. 

“Seriously though,” James looked him straight in the eyes. “I don’t know all that much, but I know that I like being with you and I know I want more of that. Can we just take it from there and see what happens?” 

“Let’s,” Daniel agreed, thinking that he’d probably happily have agreed with anything that wasn’t the messy end of a good friendship, as he’d anticipated this would go down. The few times he’d played the lottery he hadn’t won anything, but it became quite easy to imagine what cashing in that winning ticket might feel like. 

Careful to not spill any tea, James bridged the gap between them on the sofa. He fit his frame into the space created by Daniel’s arm resting on the back of the sofa and rested his head on the taller man’s shoulder. “Are you ok?” he laughed. “I’m no doctor, but it sounds like you’re having a heart attack.” 

“A little crise cardiaque. No, I’m good, it’s just my body not getting with the program and realising everything is fine.”

“Yeah, everything is fine,” James muttered, eyes closed. After a while, Daniel noticed his boyfriend - Could he say that now? Was that what this was? - was fast asleep. He carefully took the half full mug James was still clutching and placed it on the table with as little movement as physically possible. He relaxed back into the sofa and seized the moment. 

-

The next few days blurred together like they might do for people who are temporarily void of responsibility and largely focused on someone other than themselves. It had been surprisingly easy translating their friendship into something more profound, but Daniel couldn’t help wondering when exactly the bubble was going to burst.

“So I imagine it’s going to be pretty weird,” James started one night after dinner. 

“Hm?” Daniel looked up from his book. 

“You know, going back to London. Being a couple, going out together.” 

“We’ve done it before though right?” 

James shrugged. “I know, but it is kind of different now.”

“You’re right, it’s not the same.” Daniel pulled him closer until they were sitting shoulder to shoulder on the sofa. “I was wondering when you were going to freak out about that.”

James laughed. “Oh, I’ve been running a pretty substantial existential crisis in the background, for, well, all year, I suppose.” The year was all of four days long, but the statement did hold some dramatic effect. 

“Not to be too much of an optimist, but I think it’ll be fine. See, we can literally do whatever we want. We’ll just have to find a way that suits us both.”

“More things for which I’ll have to know what I want…” James sighed.

“Nah, we can figure it out as we go. It usually works for me,” Daniel shrugged. “Now that we’re kind of on the practicalities though, I was thinking we stay another night after my mum and Jean-Pierre come back, and then get driving. Ok with you?” 

“Yeah that’s fine. Remind me though, why did you drive here rather than fly here?” 

Daniel shifted his weight and sighed. “Well, because flying is by a stretch the worst form of transportation. Also, there’s something I need to take back to London that I don’t trust an airline with.” 

“Wow, okay, thankfully that doesn’t sound the least bit ominous. Care to elaborate?” James frowned and took a sip of wine. 

“All right, I should have figured this was going to be a thing. Buckle up, grab some popcorn. I’ll tell you the story.” Daniel closed his hands around his mug of tea, took a sip and closed his eyes for a second. “So, like most people I had a father at some point.” 

“Had?” 

“Don’t know why I said that actually. He’s probably still alive, I imagine he’d be around about sixty now. Anyway, past tense, present tense…” He sighed. “So I don’t know the whole tale, I’ll just tell you what I do know. My mum was seeing this guy, in the early ‘90s. Older, a painter. I don’t know what his name is even, she never told me. She was working in the shop at the time, yes, the shop, and he’d come in and they hit it off. Eventually, she got pregnant, and rather than deal with it, this fucking guy packed his bags and moved out faster than you can say ‘should’ve used protection’. I don’t know why, maybe out of some kind of guilt or sheer laziness, he left two paintings. Hell, could even have been because they were still drying. So yeah, she was left with a kid and two canvases, and thankfully she didn’t get rid of either, because otherwise we wouldn’t be here now and I’m quite enjoying being here right now.” Daniel looked down when he felt James squeeze his hand. “Anyway, in the years following this guy started making a bit of a name for himself, and mum heard about it, and decided to try and sell one of these paintings, and she did. And we were talking a while back, and she decided it’s time to sell the other one. It’s up in the attic right now, I’m taking it back home to see if it’ll go for anything.” 

“I’m so sorry,” James said after a minute. 

“Don’t be!” Daniel took a gulp of tea and shrugged. “Can’t miss what I’ve never known.”

He felt James’s piercing eyes looking at him almost expectantly, as if he was waiting for something more to happen. “Would it be anyone I know?” 

“Oh, what, him? You know, I’m not sure. He used a pseudonym, that I do know. Got quite popular at one point, but probably not popular enough to make it onto UCL’s arts history curriculum. Do me a favour, though. Should you ever somehow find out who this guy is, don’t tell me. I don’t know if I want to know.” 

“That makes sense. Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“Thanks, just…” Daniel slouched and rested his head on James’s shoulder. 

“Are you ok?” 

“Me? Oh, yeah, peachy.” He squeezed his hand back. “I don’t love talking about these things, but it was going to come up at some point. It’s a bit weird to have to deal with, but I think mum hopes that selling the thing will give me a bit of a break.”

“You mean literally, like a holiday?”

“One where I don’t have to house sit?” Daniel laughed. “Who knows. The first painting bought the shop, so it’ll be interesting to see what this one does.” 

“Jesus…”

“… is merciful sometimes, apparently.” More laughter. “I’m not getting my hopes up, but it’d be nice to work a little less, maybe hire someone. Hell, maybe I can move somewhere slightly nicer. You know, with walls that go straight up. And a garden, I’ve never lived anywhere with a garden.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah, totally. Side effect of growing up in the city, I suppose.” Daniel sat up and put his mug down with a sense of purpose. “Come on, it’s up in the attic, might as well go have a look.” 

“What, now? Are you sure?” James looked hesitant as he put his wine glass down.

“Yep, why not. I’ve never actually seen it before, only wrapped up. And if you know who it’s by, I want to know so I can make up my mind about whether I’d like you to tell me.” 

“That’s… fair, I suppose. So you’ve never actually seen it?” 

Daniel rolled his eyes, “That is what I just said, yeah. I kind of wonder why mum’s always been so secretive about it, you know, keeping it packed up and stuff.” He led the way to the attic and stumbled around in search for the light switch. “Ah, there we go.” The attic lit up, revealing a pretty nondescript collection of the sort of things people keep in their attic. Amongst the boxed, old clothes and camping gear was, leaning against one of the bookcases, a large canvas covered by a blanket. The two men towered over it, arm to shoulder, almost as if they were waiting for something to happen. Because nothing did happen, Daniel leaned over and removed first the blanket, then the bubble wrap that covered the painting. After beholding the work for a second, he burst out laughing. 

“So you know how I just said I was wondering why she’d never shown anyone this? Yeah, I feel like I ought to have seen this coming.” 

Before them on the dusty carpet stood a painting of Rosemary herself, portrayed lying on a shabby looking sofa, in full frontal nude glory. It was uncannily photorealistic and unapologetically bold. Daniel looked at James, in an attempt to elicit some response. James, meanwhile, was inspecting the signature. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t know who the maker is,” he started. “But yeah, it’s… She was, well, quite something.” 

“Dude, that’s so weird. Especially coming from you.” 

“Hey, I can objectively appreciate the female form,” James defended. 

“Sure, I suppose so, but it is my mum.” Daniel grinned. “Oh well, joke’s on you. They’re coming back tomorrow, and I’m sure she’ll be so curious to get to know you. It’s gonna be fun watching you try to keep a straight face.” 

“Oh god…”

“I mean,” Daniel went on. “Besides the fact that you were coming over I haven’t told her anything, but I’m sure she’ll put the pieces together quite soon.” He kneeled down on the floor to cover the painting back over. “Come on.” He started walking downstairs and waited for James to follow. 

Back on the sofa he noticed there was something not quite right. “What’s on your mind?” 

James shrugged. “It’s stupid, never mind.” 

“I don’t believe anything on your mind is ever stupid. Just tell me.”

“All right. It’s just what I said earlier, in a few days we’re going back home and this’ll be over, but also not, I guess. Can we just pick up where we left off, but be more than friends? And if so, how much more, like are we a couple? And does that make me gay?” He leaned over and took a drink of wine from the glass he’d left behind earlier, almost as if to stop himself talking. 

“All excellent questions,” Daniel said after a second of pause. “And I have no straight answers to any of them, but let’s start at the beginning.”

“Straight answers…” 

“Yeah, that’s why I don’t have them. Okay, so let’s see. Are we a couple? I don’t know, but I do know that I don’t care for seeing other people, and I do want to see you. If you feel the same, let’s say we’re a couple. If not, we’ll get a dictionary and find a better word for it.”

“I feel the same. Hell, if I wanted to see other people, I wouldn’t have avoided seeing other people.”

“Fair point,” Daniel laughed, briefly remembering the time he’d tried to set James up with his friend. It seemed so long ago now. “We’re a couple. Fair warning: I have no experience being half of a couple, so I’ll probably screw up sooner or later.”

James looked up at him with genuine surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah, none at all. More meaningless stuff, sure, but never anything that could be considered a relationship. You?” 

“Yeah, I’ve had girlfriends. They were usually lovely and serious, and I was usually too in my head for it to go anywhere.” 

Daniel smiled knowingly. “That sounds about right. Okay, next question. Does that make you gay? I don’t know that either. Do you want it to? Does it matter?” 

“Not to me, necessarily. Not right now. I guess I can just identify as someone who likes you.” 

“I’ll take it.” He leaned over and put his arm around James. “Seriously though, you don’t need to know. Like, there’s no one keeping score. I think I passed the whole spectrum on my way to ‘gay’. and yet for the longest time I didn’t tell anyone, partly because I wasn’t sure. I didn’t even tell my mum.”

“How does she know though?” 

“I don’t know, she just sort of guessed. Still not sure if that’s impressive or scary, really.” This reminded him of the phone call with Rosemary about a month prior and wondered if it’d been the way he’d talked about James. He shook off the thought, it didn’t matter now. “So circling back, are we gonna be able to just pick up where we left off? You know, I don’t think so, but I also don’t think that’s a bad thing. Where we left off, you had your shitty job and I was working ridiculous amounts and we didn’t have, well, any of this.” He gestured vaguely to indicate he was talking about the whole situation. James was holding Daniel’s hand in front of his chest, their knees were touching. “We’ll make it work.”

-

That same phrase was still in Daniel’s head when he woke up the next morning to find James’s half of the bed empty. Somewhere over the course of the past few days they had come to the mutual conclusion that it was weird to do everything except sleep together, and that they had no good reason not to share a bed. It was the sort of arrangement that he was perfectly able to just enjoy as long as he didn’t overthink it. When he did, the thought made his stomach flutter and his heart jump and his mind worry that he was doing something wrong. Too much, too quick? He tried not to think about it, slipped out of bed and headed straight downstairs for the kitchen. There, to his surprise, he found the kettle and the french press out on the countertop, the latter filled up with a fresh layer of ground coffee. There was a note stuck to the kettle. James’s small, neat handwriting read:

Hey! I would’ve made you  
coffee but you were really  
fast asleep, so this is the next  
best thing. I’m out for a run,  
shouldn’t be long.  
X

Daniel smiled, flipped the kettle on and wandered over to the living room, where he folded the note and put it in the book he was reading as a page marker. He absentmindedly tended to the coffee until he felt James’s sleeved arms close around him from behind. His icy fingers touched the bit of skin Daniel’s t-shirt failed to cover, right below the line of pale scar tissue on his stomach, making him squirm around and step back. “Nope, way too cold.” 

James pulled a face, Daniel tried to make up for his dismissal by kissing him and gently running a thumb down his flustered freezing cheek. “You’re all cold,” Daniel complained as he pulled back. “Where did you run to, the North pole?” 

“You’re awfully cheery today.”

“Sorry, sorry, I just woke up. Like ten minutes ago. I just need some coffee is all; I saw your note, it was very sweet. Do you want some?” 

“Please! I must’ve run like three miles, maybe even four.”

Daniel poured two mugs of coffee. “What do you like about it, running? Always seems so pointless to me.” He leaned against the countertop and a sip of coffee, by Pavlovian association it made him feel somewhat more awake. 

“Well,” James contemplated for a second. “That, actually, it’s pointless. When you're constantly worrying over something or another, you know, anxiety, it can be quite nice to do something just for the sake of it. Kind of helps me snap out of it sometimes.”

Daniel contemplated whether he had something like that. It was certainly not exercise, that was for sure; he considered his commute down the stairs to be just long and strenuous enough, and never saw himself become the sort of person who runs four miles just for fun. Most of his hobbies had some point or purpose to them, and when faced with a problem he’d usually either ignore it or face it until it went away. “I suppose that makes sense. So you had something to run about this morning?” 

“No actually, just felt like it. Why?” 

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “I guess I’m surprised you’re not freaking out yet, you know, about to meet my mum and all.”

James drank some coffee. “I think it’ll be ok, I can actually be quite polite when I want to. Also we’ve technically met before.” 

“Oh no,” Daniel laughed. “That’s not it, she’ll love you,” he said matter-of-factly. His mum was probably already happy that there was someone to meet, and he knew she trusted his judgement for the most part. 

“Well then. You’re getting in your head; is it opposite day or something?” 

“Must be,” Daniel nodded, draining his mug before he leaned over to refill it. The morning sunlight illuminated the golden and copper flecks of stubble on James’s cheek and he couldn’t help but stare for a moment. “I quite like the relaxed you. Wears facial hair very well, for one.” He grinned as he waited for a reaction. 

James ran a hand down his cheek. “Oh wow. You know, I never forget that sort of thing, to shave and such. What are you doing to me?” His smile betrayed his serious tone. 

“I know, and I don’t know, but I’ll keep doing it, ok?” 

“Enjoy it while it lasts. We’re going back tomorrow right?” 

Daniel nodded. “That was the plan. Can’t keep avoiding responsibility forever, though I really wish we could.”

James refilled his mug. “With all this newfound optimism I would say it’ll all be fine, but it’ll probably all be quite stressful and weird at first. Need me to make some more?” he asked, pointing at the french press. 

“Not for me, thanks. I need to get on with things.” 

James took a step forward, bridging any and all distance between them, and took Daniel’s free hand in his. “Not too quick.” James flashed him the sort of puppy eyes he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. 

Daniel gently placed his half empty cup on the counter before turning full attention to the other man. He grabbed James’s free hand and looked down. “I see,” he said softly, and took a step forward, cornering his boyfriend against the countertop. Before either could bat an eyelid they were making out, with the sort of primal urgency that marks coming-of-age movies and cheesy love songs. After a minute he pulled back and let one hand go. “Come on, shower.” 

Under the warm water, they connected again. 

-

“Why are you so great?” James asked out of the blue as he buttoned up his shirt. 

Daniel looked up from his phone and grinned. “Okay, I’ll play. Besides of course the fact that I’m probably mediocre at best, I guess I just rise to the occasion. See what comes up and go with it. Oh, and I’m apparently quite good at multitasking, that’s gotta be worth something.”

James laughed. “Yeah, I noticed, and it is.” He sat down on the bed and fit himself against his boyfriend’s slender frame. 

“It’s not the most sound method,” Daniel went on. “Though I find most things I worry about in a new situation usually solve themselves. Like just now.” He paused for a second, trying not to get distracted. “I was concerned we were going too quickly, and then that happened, and now I’m very sure we’re going too quickly. In fact, I think the real question is what are you doing to me?” 

“I’ll just recycle your answer because it works; I have no clue but I won’t stop doing it, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.” He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of just being together, just comfortably and effortlessly existing together in the same space. There has always been this anxiety, or anticipation, or any of the other uncomfortable emotions starting with an ‘a’, and now they seemed to have cleared that enough to just be. Shame it had to end so soon, he thought. The long drive home, the painting in the attic, the search for an employee, all things he could deal with, but they were pushed to the background by the pure simple childish desire to just stay in this dreamlike reality for a bit longer. It took him an almost painful amount of effort to not play the best bits from the past week like a highlight reel at the end of a film, though it was only the end of the very beginning. 

As the day progressed they pottered around a bit, got some groceries, tidied and cleaned away most traces of their stay. James seemed nervous, Daniel noticed, but it was an optimistic kind of nervousness, nothing to be worried about. Rosemary however was another story. If her son hadn’t managed to scare James off, she might well be able to. He tried not to be too concerned about the upcoming ordeal himself, but it was his first time introducing anyone more significant than a friend to his mum, and even though not a lot had been said about the situation, he knew she’d know. Around four in the afternoon a taxi made its way up the drive, and soon enough Rosemary darted into the living room, having left her partner to pay the driver and sort out the luggage. 

“Hey ma, good to see you. How was the holiday?” He bent down to hug her, awkwardly bridging the foot between them. He’d outgrown her before he went to secondary school, but that had never taken away any of the authority she possessed. 

“Oh good, just perfect. The kids grow up so fast.” She let go and held her son at arm’s length. “You look well! How was your week?” 

“Good, yeah, it was good.”

Her eyebrows raised ever so slightly. “That’s lovely, dear. Now, be an angel and go help Jean-Pierre with the luggage.” With that, she turned towards the man behind Daniel. “James! How absolutely lovely to see you again!” 

In the doorstep, Daniel turned around and saw how his mum ignored James’s hand and instead gave him a kiss on either cheek. “Hi Ms Taylor, nice to see you again,” he said a bit sheepishly. 

Daniel failed to fully suppress a grin anticipating her response. She laughed. “I don’t think I’ve been called that in a long time. Just Rosemary is fine, dear,” he heard as he made his way outside, where her partner was taking the last bag out of the taxi’s boot. 

“Ca va? Here, let me…” he offered, taking one of the suitcases from the porch.

“Ah, merci. Ca va, et toi?”

“Fine, yeah.

“Could you take the other bag? I can get the rest.”

On their way up, they chatted in a French-English hybrid that Daniel had gotten more comfortable with over the years. Having put the luggage away, they found Rosemary in the kitchen, simultaneously opening a bottle of wine and chatting to James at rapid speed. “So did you have a good Christmas break? Ours was quite lovely, Italy can really be great this time of year. Though it’s always nice to get back home, isn’t it? Even more so because we’d just finished doing the place up. It came out so great, especially the bathroom, don’t you think?”

“Definitely. Great, eh, water pressure-” Poor James, like a deer in prying headlights. 

Thankfully Rosemary went on. “Would you like some?” She held up the uncorked bottle of white. 

“No thanks, I’ll stick to tea for now.” Daniel took that as his cue to turn towards the kettle, to some extent because he feared his cheeks would turn red at his mum’s innocent mention of the bathroom. 

“Oh by the way, did you enjoy the champagne?” Rosemary looked at James. “I got it as a thank you for Daniel, for watching the house and all, but of course he doesn’t drink at all, so I figured why don’t you have it.” 

“It was delicious, thank you. You really needn’t have.” 

“Yeah ma, thanks! It was really nice champagne,” Daniel chimed in ad he handed James a mug. They didn’t necessarily look at each other, but Daniel could swear his heart beat twice as loudly in the split second their fingers touched. Nobody else seemed to notice, and Rosemary went on. 

“You had some?” She looked genuinely surprised. “Must’ve been good then!” 

“You know me, only the finest things in life,” he joked back, looking down at the hole in one of the knees in his jeans. He wasn't the sort of person to buy ripped jeans, but he definitely also wasn’t the sort of person to throw away a perfectly good pair of trousers because of something like that. 

They chatted into the evening and Daniel felt himself relax into the situation a bit. It was still strange, but both his mum and Jean-Pierre were extremely nice and friendly and James seemed comfortable and never more than a little flustered.

Rosemary nudged him while he was helping her prepare dinner in the kitchen a bit later. “I was right, you know. He is rather handsome.”

“Mum-”

“What? Just telling it like it is, dear. Could you set the oven to 200 degrees? And then wedge those potatoes, I was thinking.” 

“You were right, I think,” he started as he got working on the food. “On the phone that one time. I’m pretty sure I did like him then.” 

She laughed her sparkling sound. “I thought as much; you mentioned what colour eyes he has. People don’t tend to remember that sort of thing about just any of their friends.”

“Damn, that’s…” For how forgetful his mum was, evidenced by years of unsigned permission slips and missed appointments, this was quite striking. “awfully perceptive of you.” 

“Oh well, I suppose I have my moments.” She hung back the towel she’d used to dry her hands and came up to Daniel, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Are you happy?” 

Daniel smiled; he didn’t have a verbal answer at the ready, but he felt good. His shoulders were relaxed and the strange feeling in his stomach had been replaced by something lighter, fizzier. “I think so, yeah.” 

“Well, then I’m happy for you! Now, let’s get on with it, shall we?”

Was he really happy? He pondered over the question on the drive home the next day, while France and eventually England passed them by. He was certainly okay, like he almost always was. If he couldn’t find anything to indicate he wasn’t happy, he figured, he probably was. 

“Hey, we’re here.” Daniel gently shook James awake after he’d parked the car behind the shop. 

“Oh, hey.” James adjusted his glasses and unbuckled his seatbelt. 

“Come on, let’s get inside.” James took the bags and Daniel carefully carried the painting upstairs, where he placed in a safe corner of the flat. 

“You know, it was actually much easier than I thought, driving on the wrong side of the road,” James remarked, awfully chipper for the time of night. 

“Yeah, you were a natural,” Daniel laughed. “You know I could make like fifteen terrible jokes right now about how easy it actually is driving stick.”

“Oh god, don’t.” 

“I won’t, I’m just saying.”

“Hey,” James said softly. “We’re home.” 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Feels great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a bit tired of writing this chapter towards the end, which might explain why it sounds a bit rushed. Sorry about that! Should I ever rewrite it I'll fix that.


	12. The Mondays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is in a bit of a funk. Daniel's day goes a bit differently than he'd anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, I took some inspiration from a song called Season 2 Episode 3 by Glass Animals. There’s just something about the mood in the song that helped me think this chapter up. In any case have a listen because it’s a good song. I imagine it’s the sort of thing Daniel would listen to.

There wasn’t anything quite as dull, Daniel thought to himself, as a Monday in February. The first two months were kind of the Monday of the year anyway, going by in a blur of rain and sleet and short days and grumpy faces, never quick enough or warm enough or quite comfortable enough. Monday mornings were the worst time of the week in any case, it was when people berated themselves for not having enjoyed their weekend enough as they rushed to the jobs they wished they could quit. He kept the shop closed on Monday, giving himself the worst day as the second day of his weekend. This Monday was a particularly cold and rainy one, and Daniel wasn’t looking forward to spending it in his flat, trying too desperately to have some fun and not think about the pile of CV’s that was waiting on the coffee table in the back room downstairs. No work on Mondays. James tended to make them a bit better, the Mondays. And all the other days of the week, even the ones on which they didn’t see each other. It was amazing how certain people could make things better by just existing. How the sheer thought of them making coffee in their kitchen a few miles away pierced through the clouds in your mind like a rare ray of sunshine on one of those dreary mornings. Speaking of coffee, he thought, picking up the mug on the table only to find that the liquid had gone stone cold. Some warmth, that was what he needed, to combat the cold dreary stuff. He picked up his phone and opened the messaging app. 

Hey, I’m bored and I miss you, can I come round? 

The text went to James, obviously, the only possible recipient of such a combination of honesty and sentiment. He put his phone back on the table and picked up the copy of Good Omens he’d been trying to get into for a while. After half an hour or so, his phone screen lit up. 

Yeah sure

A bit short, but not necessarily worrying as a reply, Daniel thought. Out of the two of them, he was the one to waste words, James wasn’t.

Cool, I’ll get the next train

He saw the message going to ‘read’ and quickly tied his shoes and put on a coat and grabbed his book, eager to get out of the flat. The pockets of his duffel coat could easily accommodate a paperback besides his phone, wallet and keys, and he barely ever left the house without bringing a book, especially if there was public transport involved. At the final stop he reluctantly put the story away, and by a stroke of luck he made it to James’s without getting rained on too much. He rung the bell, was buzzed in and went up, feeling excited. It must’ve been going on a week since they’d seen each other; having quit his job James didn’t have much of a reason to be in Camden at random moments, and between work, stress and vastly different rhythms it had been somewhat of a struggle to make enough time for each other. James was waiting at the door and basically fell into Daniel’s arms by way of a greeting. That was some cause for slight concern. Daniel kissed the top of his boyfriend’s head because the rest of his face was buried in his shoulder. When he took a step back to take off his coat he say his boyfriend’s face properly. The ever so slightly red eyes, dark circles, absence of the usual faint smile and the stubble he liked but knew not to expect. After he put his coat on the peg he turned around and saw the flat. By his own loose standards, it would have been a bit messy, like you’d expect after a busy week or after having had some friends over. By James’s standards however, it was odd, least to say. 

“Are you, eh, are you okay?” He asked carefully as they went over to the sofa and sat down. It came out a bit more clumsy than he would’ve preferred. 

“Me? Oh, yeah. Right as rain. Sorry the place is a bit untidy,” he said slowly. “When I got your message I kind of started tidying but I couldn’t really get it all done in time.” 

“I don’t mind, you know that. You just look quite… tired. Or stoned? Or I’m just mistaken of course,” he added in attempt to make it seem like he wasn’t prying, which he definitely was. 

“No, don’t worry, I didn’t smoke,” he shrugged. “Not today at least.” With this, he pushed up his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. Only now Daniel noticed James was wearing the blue jumper he’d lent him all those months ago, before the thought of their current reality had even dared cross his mind. 

He put an arm around James and pulled him close again. “Just tired then?” 

“Yeah,” he answered after a second, voice hoarse. “I haven’t slept too much the past few days, few hours a night maybe.” 

Daniel frowned. “That’s not great, don’t you want to just take a nap?” 

“Nah, you’re here now, and I probably couldn’t if I tried. To sleep, that is.” 

It took dim about half a second to make the decision, after which he kicked off his shoes, got up and stuck a hand out to James. “Come on. Bed. If you can’t sleep you can still lie down.” He pulled his boyfriend up and moved through the sliding doors into the bedroom, James in tow. “You’re dead on your feet, so best not to be on your feet.” 

They lay down on the bed and Daniel covered the both of them over with the duvet, which had been hanging off the foot end. He wasn’t tired in the slightest, quite the opposite, having had ten hours of sleep and two coffees, but he didn’t mind. Daniel wrapped his arms around James from behind and hugged him tightly as they chatted for a while about the art James had been working on and the TV show they sporadically watched an episode or two of together. After a while he heard boyfriend’s sentence slow down and taper out and eventually his breath steadied. He waited another few minutes just to be safe, and then carefully pulled away and got out of the bed. James stirred as Daniel covered him over, but thankfully didn’t wake up, so Daniel closed the curtains and made his way into the living room. There he rounded up all the plates and cups, washed the crumbs off and scrubbed the tea stains out, threw out the half-empty bottle of wine that had been left open - was red wine supposed to smell that terrible, or had it just gone off - and eventually put the kettle on for himself. When he sat back down with a cup of tea and his book, he felt quite content. He got lost in the story and didn’t look up until the bedroom door opened. 

“Hey, you’re up!” 

James blinked a few times as he shuffled over to the sofa and sat down next to Daniel. “What time is it?” he asked softly. The sun was setting behind the rooftops. 

“Around about five, I think.” 

“You tidied?” James looked around the room. 

“Yeah,” Daniel shrugged. “Figured I might as well, least I could do really.” 

Before he knew what was happening, James crashed his face into the soft wool of Daniel’s jumper and squeezed him tight around the ribs. Daniel grinned, but his smile disappeared as soon as he heard James sob, the sound muffled by his clothes. “Oh no, I’m sorry! Did I do something wrong?” he asked quickly. 

James pulled back. “No, no! I’m sorry!” His eyes were red and watery. “A few days ago I was kind of stressed, you know about work and stuff, and I wasn’t sleeping well so I got a bit high but that didn’t help either, and then I was stressed and tired and anxious about what you’d think of me, and it all just got worse and how you’re having to see me like this,” he blurted. “If you just want to leave I totally get it.” he added in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. 

“Leave?” Daniel had some trouble trying not to laugh, even though it wasn’t the tiniest bit funny. “I don’t want to leave! I just got here, and I had a nice enough afternoon. Made good progress on my book.” He tried to keep it light, because he suspected neither of them were in the right headspace to unpack that phrase “anxious about what you’d think of me”. That was a problem for later, and until then he was just going to have to try to not let it bug him too much. 

“But I- I’m kind of a mess, aren’t I?” 

“A bit, yeah. All the more reason for me to stick around and make sure you’re ok.” Daniel dared a little smile this time. “You’re still my mess.” 

They sat quietly for a while, James holding onto Daniel as if for dear life, until his stomach growled loud enough to interrupt the silence.

“Yeah of course, you skipped lunch, didn’t you?” Daniel assumed, as James had slept the afternoon away. 

“Make that lunch and breakfast…” 

Daniel looked down at him, concerned. “You did have dinner though?” 

“Cheese on toast. I forgot to eat and then it was late and I didn’t feel like cooking anymore.” James sounded a bit more normal. The worst of it seemed to be over, but Daniel wasn’t too optimistic yet. 

“I’m just going to go out on a limb and assume your fridge is empty?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” 

He thought for a minute. “Okay, yeah. Come on, get up. Shower, get changed, shave. Or don’t, of course,” he added with a little grin, obviously referring to the latter point. “Whatever you need to feel a bit more human. And have a think about where you want to go for dinner in the meantime.” 

“Are you sure?” James looked a bit insecure at the idea. 

“Or we can get takeout,” Daniel went on. “I just don’t feel like going out to get groceries and then cooking.”

James contemplated briefly. “Yeah, that’s fair, I think I’m up for that.” Instead of getting up, he leaned in and cuddled Daniel a bit more. “Thank you. Really,” he said, making it clear he meant more than the words could express on their own. 

Daniel smiled and looked his boyfriend in the eyes. “It’s all good. Really.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say, sometimes you just need to be taken care of for a bit.


	13. The Success

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel is nervous and speaks before he thinks.

How the fuck did I end up here, Daniel thought to himself. There were at least two babies crying within earshot, kids were running around, people were making loud phone calls. Every time the bright overhead TL bars flickered he looked up involuntarily. Is seemed he’d forgotten how to breathe properly, and the heating appeared to have been turned up to a trillion degrees, making the space insufferable. He would’ve given just about anything to go outside and get some fresh air, but that wasn’t going to happen for a while. To ease his bitter regret, he tried to think about what had happened to got him to where he was now. 

It all started about a month prior, when James had called him out of the blue on a random weekday afternoon. He had taken himself into the back room to answer the call, expecting a chat or to make some plans for later in the week. As soon as his finger hit the button, James was talking loudly, excited, breathless. Judging from the background noise he was outside, on the go. 

“I SOLD ONE!” he went. 

“Wait, what are you-” 

“A painting!” James continued, in the way he did when he wasn’t about to wait for anyone to catch up with him. “You know that gallery that gave me a bit of exhibition space a while back? Apparently someone saw something they liked. I’m just on my way back from there, it’s all sorted!” 

Daniel’s eyes went wide. “Wow, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!” It was all he felt like he could say, and all he felt like he needed to say. For a few months, he’d watched his boyfriend struggle, make and try, not daring or wanting to step out from the sideline, and he was so happy to hear that it was paying off. 

“Yeah I’m pretty amazing.” He used the slightly sarcastic tone that was reserved exclusively for self-praise, but he sounded so elated that it was easy to tell he was, in fact, very pleased with himself. “So I was thinking, we should celebrate!” 

“Naturally.” Daniel went over the next week in his head, and figured he would have plenty of time for a bit of fun. He could probably even take a day. Meanwhile he got the kettle on and gestured to Anwar to ask if he wanted any more tea. 

Anwar had been working in the shop for a few weeks at that point, and Daniel couldn’t be more happy having made the decision to hire someone. Two days of help a week pretty much made up for the work he’d been doing during the evenings and weekends, and he’d really rather enjoyed having some of his free time back, especially now that he had someone to spend it with. Out of the pile of CVs, Anwar’s had stood out because of its sheer honesty. Not a lot of experience, but Daniel had figured that could quite easily be solved by actually giving him a job. The interview had confirmed his good feeling, so he went for it. Anwar, who occasionally provided dry witty remarks and batches of biscuits baked by his mum, turned out to be quick to learn and difficult to throw off, providing a nice balance to Daniel’s more chaotic way of working. 

Daniel was brought back to earth by the sound of James going up the stairs to his flat, accompanied by more excited talk. “Maybe we could go away for a bit, like a weekend?” 

“I don’t know, man.” He frowned and took a sip of tea. “You know, with the shop and all.” 

“Yeah of course I don’t mean now!” James said quickly. “But, like, in a month or so. It’s my birthday in a month,” he added, sounding ever so slightly like he was begging. “I was having a look earlier, and there’s some really good deals on flights at the moment. You know, I’ve never been to Paris.” Okay, now he was downright begging. 

Daniel quickly deflected. “You know, a few months ago your idea of a bold plan was to do your grocery shopping in the morning rather than the evening.”

“I know, I know. But last time we were away together, well, you remember, you were there. We’ve both been so busy and I just figured it’d be a nice idea,” James said softly. 

It didn’t take much for Daniel to imagine to imagine the puppy eyes that undoubtedly came with this tone of voice, and he knew he’d eventually cave. “Okay, all right. I’d say figure it out, when and what and where and how, and let me know.” 

“Really?!” 

“Really. Hey, I should probably go, work and all. But in any case I’m super proud of you! See you tomorrow, right?” 

“Yeah, tomorrow! And, thanks.” 

“Of course! Bye.” 

“Bye…” The line went dead. 

Later that afternoon, after most of the traffic in the shop had died down, he’d brought up the possible logistical issue. 

“Anwar?” 

“Sir? Eh, sorry, Daniel.” 

“Yeah, thanks. You know it’s a quid for every time you call me sir,” Daniel replied completely deadpan. It was a joke he had started the first time he’d heard it, and he was happy to repeat it as often as necessary to get the weird formality out of the way. 

“In a month or so I might need to take a few days off. I could just close down, but if you feel up for it by then you could take over for a bit. No weekends, of course, just like a Tuesday and a Wednesday maybe.” 

The younger man thought about it for a second. “Would that be the first week of May then?” 

“Probably, actually, yes.” 

“That ought to be fine, I have that week off because of exams, but I don’t think I have anything scheduled then. Are you sure though?” 

“Only if you feel up to it. But if you do, then I’m sure.” Daniel thought back to the many afternoons and Saturdays he’d spent minding the shop when he was sixteen, seventeen, and didn’t see much harm in it. After all, everything had gone fine then, and these were slightly more responsible circumstances. 

Anwar had indeed been up to it, which was part of the set of circumstances that led to Daniel finding himself in a departure lounge at Heathrow airport on an especially busy Sunday morning. He was taken back to the present when James gently squeezed his hand from across the cold metal armrest that separated their seats. 

“Hey, it’s going to be okay!” He said softly, though loud enough to cut through the various sources of annoying background noise. 

“Is it though?” Daniel asked, his voice ever so slightly shrill. “How are you so calm anyway?” 

James chuckled. “I know, I’m supposed to be the one with anxiety. Flying has just never bothered me, it’s not much different from getting on a train.” He shrugged and looked up. “But if I knew you were this scared of flying I wouldn’t have suggested it.” 

“I.. I don’t know, I thought it wouldn’t be this bad.” He shifted his weight to look at James with a bit more ease. “Major judgement error on my end, I’m sorry. It’s been so long since I’ve flown that I kind of forgot how bad it actually is.”

“Oh no please don’t apologise. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” To his great surprise, James wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him in tightly. Perhaps it was because they usually preferred to stay in, aside from the very occasional dinner date or museum visit, but neither of them was very heavy on the public displays of affection. Or was James actually, and he just hadn’t know it? Daniel couldn’t imagine, and besides, that was a problem for later. Getting through this damn flight took priority right now. 

His discomfort didn’t ease once they got settled in, which he partly blamed on the outrageously small amount of available leg space. 

“Are you going to be ok?” James asked after he put their luggage away and got in his seat. 

“Yeah, probably, possibly. Jus trying not to think of the fact that I’m locked in a soda can that will be hanging a few miles up in the sky, fuelled by dinosaurs. If I don’t think of that’s it’s all fine.” He looked over just in time to catch James suppressing a laugh. At that moment the plane turned on. That must be it, right, that sound? Just the key being turned or the button pressed or whatever made these things run. He looked down at his hand, which was clutching James’s again. “I must really love you to be doing this,” he muttered.

He looked up to find James staring at him, bright eyed and smiling ever so slightly. “Did you just…?” he asked.

“I did, didn’t I?” Daniel probably looked as startled as he felt, but it also seemed… right, somehow. “I’m sorry! I know it’s not… And we’re not…” He used his free hand to gesture vaguely at the surroundings, but James intercepted it with his own free hand and held on tight. 

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He said that.


	14. Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James celebrates his birthday, even though he hates birthdays. He also unmasks himself as a clothing thief and realises that his boyfriend is truly very sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was once again inspired by a song, this time it's The Louvre by Lorde. Also, James's birthday is May 4th. He's such a Taurus.

“Hey, maybe we should actually go outside at some point today,” Daniel suggested from the other side of the bed, propped up against the headboard and a few pillows. The duvet failed to cover all of his chest, and his hand held open the book he’d been reading. “You know, with it being your birthday and all.” It was, he’d half-forgotten again after Daniel had reminded him first thing in the morning. He’d had the faint hope that them being in Paris would distract enough from his birthday for it not to be brought up too much, but that seemed to have been false hope. 

“The outside is heavily overrated, you know,” James rebuked. “So are birthdays, for that matter.” The Wrights had never been too keen on festivities, and his birthday was never really a reason to make a fuss. Which, incidentally, was just how he liked it. Not fussy. The times where birthdays went by without notice seemed to have passed, however. 

Daniel chuckled, a beautiful thing. “I know your feelings on both, but come on, we’re in Paris.” That was pretty hard to argue with, as it was a statement of fact. “We’ll go do something you like. How many museums does Paris have, like a hundred?” 

“Probably a bit more than that.” The exact number had once been in the back of his mind along with the other facts that were sometimes useful to have for when a conversation had run dry, but it had probably been replaced by Brexit news or song lyrics since. His phone screen lit up with a message, probably Cecily with a straightforward obligatory birthday wish. It was 12:47, and the sunlight aggressively made its way into the room through the gaps between the curtains. He ignored the phone and turned around to face Daniel, pinning him down with a head on his shoulder and an arm across his chest. “Too many to choose from, let’s just stay in.” 

“Tempting, really, but no.” James watched his boyfriend fold the upper corner of the page he was on, then run his nail across the fold to make sure it stayed in place; a gesture he tried really hard not to be bothered by. “Okay, let me put it differently. I want to go outside and do something that’s not you. Also I’m starving, and I’d really like some proper coffee.” James considered pleading, negotiating, but he knew his attempts would be futile. It was probably for the better; he knew he’d regret not having seen the city once he got back to London, and he knew Daniel knew that. He also knew it would take him a lot to admit that he quite liked this pragmatic, grounding influence, but that was a concern for some older, wiser version of himself. 

He reluctantly turned around, sat up and put his glasses on. The fact that he could see further than half a meter out in front of somehow helped his mindset a bit, it was easier going out into a world that wasn’t blurry. “Okay, I can't argue with starvation. Give a minute.” Under the running water in the shower he felt himself ease up a bit. Truth was, being in this little hotel room felt safe, and the city that was waiting for him outside felt very unsafe. Which was stupid, he knew that much. After all it’d been his idea to go here, and didn’t want to ruin the fun by being anxious. Besides, Paris was far smaller than London, so in that sense there was no need to be worried. Though London had his flat, with his own bed and his art stuff and everything in the right place. In any case, it wasn’t worth mulling over, he figured when he appeared out of the bathroom a bit later. They were here now, so they might as well make the most of it, or at least something more than lazing in bed all day. 

When he got back to the bedroom, Daniel looked up, holding the flannel shirt he’d been rummaging through his bag for. “You know,” he started when he looked over at James. “I’m rapidly running out of jumpers for you to nick.” 

Guilty as charged, James looked down at the burgundy coloured hoodie he was wearing. “I know, I know, sorry. There’s just something about them.” The soft fabric on his skin, the fact that it was both too long and too wide, the garment felt like a hug and a hideout at the same time, two things he’d been searching for a bit more than usual lately. 

“It’s ok. Though I might steal this one back from you at some point, it’s one of my favourites.” He watched Daniel finish getting dressed and then attempt to make his hair lie flat, which they both knew was not going to happen. “Not now though, let’s go.” 

At a cafe a few streets from the hotel they sat down with coffee and pastries and the plan to make a plan for the rest of the day. It was one of those rare sunny and dry May afternoons that allowed you to sit outside, warm enough not to need a jacket but not so warm that it gets uncomfortable. The only things that were missing from the scene would be a man smoking a pipe and reading a newspaper, and someone playing an accordion in the background. Or maybe the score from that one film, the whimsical one with the crazy dark-haired lady. He couldn’t remember what it was called.

“So what do you want to do today? It’s your day…” Daniel pulled him out of his very Parisian train of thought, and he contemplated for a moment. 

“Definitely something museum-y. Won’t you be bored though?” They’d been to exhibitions and such before, but this was a running concern James had. 

Daniel laughed, sipped his coffee. “Not if you provide running commentary on why all the work is heavily overrated.” 

“I do that, do I?” he asked, feeling a bit bad about it now. 

“Very much so. But I like it, it’s like having a strongly opinionated personalised audio tour.” 

James deliberated for a second. “See I don’t know if that’s good or bad, because most museum tours are terrible anyway.” 

“Oh god here we go.” At this point, Daniel asked a passing waitress for the check and proceeded to handle the transaction in what James could only discern as fluent French. Now it wasn’t so much the mere use of a very attractive sounding foreign language that got him, but the sheer casualness with which the words were spoken. There was something about the complete ignorance with regard to the disarming effect Daniel had, that made it all the more strong. Of course, James didn’t say any of this. It was not the sort of thing one said. Or was it? This was one of those areas where his lack of experience with relationship etiquette became apparent, and he came across them a bit more often than he would’ve preferred. 

“I think I actually just fell in love with you a little bit more,” James said after a minute. So the thing you were thinking just now wasn’t good, he thought to himself, but this was? Seriously? That usually came with a gap in his knowledge, the self-berating about how he chose to deal with it. It was a minefield, all of it. He’d figured that out roughly two minutes after they’d gotten together, and he was still waiting for the big screwup on his end, for the little derogatory voice at the back of his mind to get the last word. 

Daniel looked over, all flannel-clad innocence. “What, cause I got you a coffee? Don’t worry about it, please,” he asked, looking and sounding confused. 

“No, no. It’s the French. I think.” Great, now you’ve literally lost the plot. He could feel his cheeks go the colour of his jumper, which really was just all this situation needed. 

“Ah, aimes-tu quand je parle français? Mais pourquoi, je ne comprend pas.” 

“I know, it’s stupid,” James said, sitting back in his chair a bit. 

Daniel dialled down his grin to a smile. “Not at all, it’s kind of cute. Sometimes I think I’m too much or whatever, and then you come in and say something outrageously sweet like that. Levels the playing field.” He leaned over and very briefly kissed James. Unusual, but certainly not unwanted. “So if all it takes is for me too keep disgracing the French language, je vais obliger.” 

“What do you mean disgrace?” 

“Oh, that was all barely passable. The waitress was just humouring me. You good to go?” 

It had been a good day, James concluded some hours later, sat opposite Daniel in the restaurant they’d picked for dinner. He was tired but the good kind, the kind of tired you got from doing things you liked all day, which was certainly a nice change from the kind of tired you got from years of cumulative sleep deprivation. He was also on his way to being tipsy, a realisation brought on by the fact that his vision lagged behind ever so slightly when he looked up from his half empty whisky glass to face Daniel.

His boyfriend’s face was lit up by the candle on the table like that of the narrative character in a horror film about to start telling a ghost story. The imagery made him smile. “Hey so, I know you said not to get you anything for your birthday,” Daniel started. Oh Christ, James thought. Here we go. The only birthday tradition he strictly adhered to was to not celebrate, gifts included. “So I didn’t get you anything.” Okay, good. James hoped the relief wasn’t visible on his face. “But I did make you something.” This piqued his interest. Between the two of them, he was the one who’d drawn the long straw on artistic ability, and he wondered what this thing could possibly be. 

“That’s so sweet, but you really didn’t have to,” James answered hastily. 

“Bit late for that. Here.” Daniel handed him a small package wrapped in nondescript silver paper. He carefully unwrapped it, making sure not to tear the paper, and neatly folded it back up before laying eyes on the actual present. In his hand he held what he recognised to be a cassette tape, and for a second he got confused. 

Daniel, who must’ve seen his face, began to explain. “It’s a mixtape. You remember how I found a cassette recorder at a thrift store a while back? It turned out to still work, so I started playing around with it a bit and ended up making this. Sorry I didn’t do any cover art; that’s more your strong suit. I did list the tracks on the back though.” 

James listened and flipped over the plastic case to find the list on the back, written in Daniel’s best, smallest handwriting. 

The Doors - Soul Kitchen  
alt-J - Hand-made  
Franz Ferdinand - Take Me Out  
Billie Eilish - wish you were gay  
Graham Coxon - Walking All Day  
Queen - Crazy Little Thing Called Love  
The Belles - Come Back  
The Kinks - You Really Got Me  
Courtney Barnett - Pickles from the Jar  
Lorde - 400 Lux  
James Blake - Choose Me  
Band Of Skulls - Fires  
Cream - Sunshine Of Your Love

As he read through the list, he felt a warm sensation come up in his chest. Even if he’d wanted to suppress a smile, he couldn’t. 

“I know it’s a bit sappy. Too much so?” Daniel asked him, sounding heartbreakingly insecure. 

“No, no, not at all! It’s so sweet!” He seemed to be stuck on the word ‘sweet’, but it did the job. “A bit sappy, I love it.” He read through the track list again. “The first one… That’s on the record I played at yours when I first stayed the night, isn’t it?” He looked up at Daniel, who looked relieved. 

“Yeah, it is. The third one is on that CD you gave me for my birthday at some point. That was on in the car when I, eh - When we drove home from that party, remember?” 

“I remember,” James laughed. “So if you’re lonely, you know I’m here waiting for you,” he quoted the lyric. “Wow, that’s…” 

“Telling? Yeah, hindsight and all that. The rest is just good songs. Though some of them are a bit straight. But yeah, I can’t fix society.” He shrugged. “Do you like it?” 

He leaned over and grabbed Daniel’s hand, which was resting on the table, in the middle of a full restaurant. “I love it. Can’t wait to hear them all.” 

“Ah, yeah. I obviously couldn’t not give you the physical thing, but I realised you probably don’t have anything to play it on, so I put the songs into a playlist. I’ll send you the link to that once I’m done with the grand romantic gesture.” Daniel seemed at ease now that everything had worked out. “But please don’t put it on shuffle or whatever, that negates the whole point of the order and…” James did suppress a laugh this time, typical as this was. 

“Don’t worry, I get it.” He squeezed his boyfriend’s hand and took a sip of scotch. “Thank you, for all of this. Probably the best birthday I’ve had in, well, ever.” The fuzzy warm feeling threatened to overtake him, but he didn’t mind. Sat in this Parisian restaurant opposite his favourite person, he felt truly happy.


	15. The Customer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a random afternoon, Daniel randomly strikes up a chat with a random customer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I figured I’d throw in a little flashback chapter, because I sometimes feel like I started this story in the middle rather than at the beginning. Of course the two main characters met at some point, and I’m curious to see how they were before they got tuned in on each other. This bit takes place two years before the current story present, on a very unassuming May afternoon. If there’s some repetition of facts or plot errors, forgive me. That’s a problem for the edit. Here it goes!

Daniel didn’t tend to measure the success of his work days by money made, items sold or emails sent. Of course, over the course of a week or a month those things were important, but this particularly slow and rainy Tuesday had been an excellent one for reading, and that counted for something, right? The first day of the workweek was never a very busy one, and rather than feel bad about it he tried to just enjoy it. Don’t worry too much about the shop, it basically runs itself. That’s what his mother would say, and she had the strong tendency to be right about most things. Even though she spent most of her time in France now, her presence was cemented into every nook of the place, and Daniel was fairly content to keep doing things the way she had done them for twenty years.   
At half four he put away his book and considered calling it a night - afternoon? - early, but that train of thought was interrupted by the bell announcing a late customer. He recognised the guy who had been coming in quite frequently lately, usually late in the afternoon. He’d browse a bit and occasionally buy something, which was nothing out of the ordinary, but it had been happening enough for Daniel to remember his face. That in itself was unusual, because he was terrible with faces and saw enough of them on any given day to have given up on memorising them a long time ago. Over the last of his mug of tea he allowed himself he allowed himself a look at the customer. He was impeccably dressed, as he always seemed to be. Suit trousers, oxfords, shirt with the sleeves rolled up, not a hair out of place. Daniel looked down at his jeans and band t-shirt, suddenly feeling quite underdressed even though he was in his own territory. At least nothing was ripped or looking too shabby, a fact he normally didn’t care about but was glad for in the moment. 

He hesitated for a moment, but chose to speak up. “Hey, eh, if I can help you with anything let me know.” Did that sound too pushy? He really hoped not.

“Oh, right, sorry.” The other man checked his watch. “I didn’t realise it was near close already, I should go.” 

“No, no, that’s not at all what I meant!” Daniel replied quickly. “Stay as long as you like. I just meant if you’re looking for anything in particular… Though you probably know the place better than I do by now,” he laughed. 

“I suppose so. I pass by here on my way back from work, so it's easy to drop in.”

“Makes sense! Wait, are you the one who leaves these little sketches in the notepads when you try out a pencil?” He had been finding the drawings quite frequently lately, tiny portraits and still lives sketched in 3H, 5B, F. 

“Guilty as charged.” 

“That’s so nice, they’re really cool!” That was not a lie, it did always make him very happy finding tiny pieces of art hidden away between the mindless pen marks. 

He attempted to take a sip of tea only to find that there was no tea left to sip; a problem with an easy solution. “Hey I was going to make myself some tea, would you like some as well?” he asked. Was that weird to ask, after only a bit of chat? Probably, he figured. But it was done. 

The other man checked his watch again. “I should really get going,” he answered ever so slightly reluctantly. 

“You rather than me,” Daniel nodded towards the storefront window, on the other side of which the light drizzle of rain was quickly turning into a proper downpour. 

“Okay, in that case I’d love a cup.” 

After a few minutes Daniel emerged back from the break room with to mugs. “Do you take anything in it?” 

“No, that’s great thanks.”

“I’m Daniel by the way.”

“James.”

They chatted for a while, and Daniel found out that that James was a Fine Art student, though hopefully not for long as he’d just handed in his dissertation the other day. He’d taken a job around the corner from the shop a while ago, hence why he’d come in frequently these days, even though he lived way across town. At some point his phone buzzed and he mumbled a quick apology before checking the message. The contact ID read Neil G. 

Hey  
Wanna come over  
We could watch a film 😏

He frowned and got typing. 

Not tonight  
Some other time maybe

The predicted reply came swiftly.

Oh come on  
I’ll make it worth your while  
Promise

I said no

Daniel put his phone away, screen down, and tried not to let any annoyance show on his face when he looked back up at James. 

“Are you, eh, okay?” It appeared he’d failed. 

“Yeah, totally fine! Right as rain. Sorry, just had to deal with that.”

James smiled. “Don’t worry, I get it. People…” He took a sip of tea and Daniel watched the steam briefly fog up the bottom edge of his glasses. How annoying must that be? To need some implement to see better, which would then get tampered with by something as stupid as a bit of steam. 

“Yeah, you can say that again.” He quickly interrupted his train of thought before he’d forget to actually respond.

“Hey, I should really get going,” James checked his watch again, Daniel saw that it’d gone five already. “Thanks for the tea, this was nice.” 

“Don’t worry about it!” Daniel replied, a bit more cheerful than he’d been just now. “See you around.” James was already making his way out, but turned around to flash a smile before the bell rang and the door closed. 

All in all, Daniel had a lot to mull over that evening. He was half worried he’d been too rude towards Neil, who wasn’t a bad person and didn’t necessarily deserve to be treated like one. He was, however, quite vocal about really only wanting one thing, and equally open about not really caring for the person attached to the thing he wanted. He imagined their thing was similar to the way in which a lot of people regarded drinking, though he didn’t have much firsthand experience on that front. They knew it wasn’t great for them, but they kept going back to it because it felt good for a while and then bad for a while and then either feeling faded into an obliviousness that made it easy to go back. That’s what it was, between them, a bad habit. Everyone had their vice, right?   
In any case, he was happy to find that the answer to everything still seemed to be a good cup of tea. Though he wasn’t entirely sure what had happened in the shop earlier, he knew he liked it and he hoped it’d happen again.


	16. The Other Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel celebrates his birthday and has poor coping mechanisms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daniel's birthday is December 20th, which puts this flashback in a time that doesn’t predate the actual beginning of the story, but I’ll just leave it here for now, because it fits the story as it’s going right now quite well. For this one I was curious to get to know Daniel a bit better; I’ve written from his point of view mostly, but he doesn’t like talking about himself much, especially when he’s preoccupied with far more interesting things and people. I was curious to see how he deals with a new kind of situation, and whether he holds up as nice and balanced and mature as I thought he always was. So yeah, here goes that. It’s quite short, but I think it’s got everything it needs.

The fact that his birthday fell on a Friday this year should have set a positive prerequisite, Daniel figured. Friday was the day on which people dressed casually for work, though he did that every day, after which they’d go to a bar and start the weekend with a stiff drink, though he never did that anyway. In any case, Friday was supposed to be a good day. This one, however, was turning out pretty poorly. A well-wishing text from James had managed to put a bit of a smile on his face, but aside from that his friend had made sure to respect his wish to not celebrate. A wish, he realised as he cleared up after dinner, he now wished he hadn’t made. The thought of a crowded bar and some friendly faces suddenly seemed attractive next to its alternative of sitting at home and feeling miserable. Where the feeling even came from, he didn’t know. Work wasn’t great, but it hadn’t been for a while, and he couldn’t imagine this was the breaking point. Everyone including himself had been busy lately, and the amount of spontaneous film nights and pub visits had been reduced drastically. This also meant he hadn’t seen as much of James, which bothered him more than he cared to admit at present. For a second he contemplated going into the reason why this bothered him so much, but he thought it best to leave it. Even if there was a reason, what good would knowing it do? James was his friend, his straight friend; even if Rosemary’s playful insinuations rooted in something more serious, it wasn’t like he could do anything, except for probably ruin a really good friendship. Neither the rock nor the hard place were looking particularly attractive, so he decided to just stay right in between.   
He sat down, turned the volume on the record player up and browsed social media bot a minute, before he found his thumb hovering over a message he’d left on ‘unread’ since he’d received it a few weeks ago. He opened the text and saw exactly what he expected.

Hey  
🎬 🎞 ?

The use of emojis was a new touch, and under different circumstances it probably would’ve made him laugh. 

Tonight? he sent back, after which he lay back and waited for a reply. 

The answer came swiftly and efficiently, how telling. 

See you in 10

He didn’t bother responding that it was probably going to be a bit longer, neither of them cared enough. He put on some trainers and a coat, turned off the music and the lights and left the dark flat.   
If the cold air had had any kind of sobering effect on his clouded mind, he would have probably turned back around somewhere on the fifteen minute walk. But it didn’t, and he didn’t, and as a result he eventually found himself at Neil’s place. He barely had to ring the bell before the door was opened. 

“Guess who’s back,” Neil said with that grin of his. “Back again…” He hadn’t changed at all, Daniel noticed immediately. The way he leaned against the doorpost, dark straight hair that fell into his icy blue eyes, how he held a beer bottle by the neck. It was all awfully familiar. 

They went down the hall to Neil’s room, which was as unchanged as himself. The sight of it aroused something akin to melancholy. Halfway between the door and the bed, the other man turned around. “So you actually want to watch a film then?” 

“Not really.” 

“Oh good, all the easier.” 

It was everything he expected and less. In the beginning, their dates had been just that, but over time any romantic or even affectionate aspect had faded away, and it just became a thing they did. The familiar dirty feeling was still there, reserved specially for after the fact, but the cause was different. Before, especially early on, he had felt bad about sleeping with a man. Even though he wasn’t raised with the idea that homosexuality was a bad thing, he couldn’t get it out of his hear that he was doing something gross, something forbidden. That feeling had been replaced entirely by a different sort of disgust, he realised as he looked down on Neil. Buttoning his shirt back up, he watched the other man lazily smile, smug and satisfied, before lighting a cigarette and looking up at Daniel. 

“By the way, nice twist with the whole dominant thing you’ve got going on these days, it’s cute.” He laughed, the sound dripping with mockery. “You’ve changed.” 

Daniel sighed. “Yeah, and you’re exactly the same.” He tried his best to make it painfully obvious that that was indeed a bad thing, but from experience he figured the sentiment wouldn’t transfer. Some things just never changed. 

Neil shrugged and went on, in what seemed like a very poor attempt at redemption. “Isn’t your birthday soon?” The irony was almost as funny as it was painful, Daniel thought to himself. 

“Yeah, it is.” More like five hours ago, but okay. 

“Well, have a good one. And eh, if you feel like celebrating, hit me up.” 

For a minute he contemplated telling Neil that that was exactly what they had been doing, though it was about the most bleak expression of a celebration thinkable. He decided it wasn’t worth it. In fact, none of this was worth it. What was ‘it’, even? The illusion of closeness and affection? Dissatisfactory sexual pleasure? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good enough anymore. He’d enabled this guy toying with him long enough, reluctantly, but still. He remembered vaguely thinking that they could be a thing, ignoring the red flags in favour of acknowledging physical attraction, but that was only in the beginning. Since then, it’d just been an easy way to get laid, as tonight had proven once again. Maybe he was too harsh towards Neil. The guy had always made it perfectly clear what he wanted and what he didn’t want, and there was something to be said for that. But then again, Daniel figured, there were probably at least a few of him in Neil’s phone. Closet cases, guys who were happy to settle for less than they really wanted. 

He tied his shoelaces and got up, took a step towards the door. “So I’ll be out then.” 

Neil took a drag of his cigarette, almost as if he was hoping to prolong the moment, freeze them in time right there amongst the scattered clothes, in the dim light coming from his desk lamp. “Cheers, see you.” 

“We’ll see.” Daniel abruptly turned around and made his way out. The cold air still didn’t have the sobering effect he had hoped for a few hours ago, but he didn’t need it anymore. When he got home, he took out his phone, went to the contact list and deleted Neil’s number and their text thread. Onto bigger and better things.


	17. The Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel has a right day of it, essentially.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've come to know and love my main character as someone who isn't easily thrown off or fazed, and I was curious to see what would happen to him in a new kind of situation, one where he isn't in control.

Daniel lay back, closed his eyes and tried to enjoy the feeling of James’s fingers playing with his hair. It was half nine, the flat was tidy, and for the next twelve hours he didn’t have anything to worry about, except maybe getting from the sofa to the bed at some point later. There wasn’t even any work to be done, in part thanks to Anwar, who continuously proved to be an absolute powerhouse. All the things he’d been stressed about over the past few months had been solved or were being solved. Even James was okay, still painting, still occasionally selling, still taking care of himself. It was raining, and the sound of the drops falling on the window above them mixed with the jazzy notes coming from the record player into soothing background noise. At least, it was supposed to have that effect, but the sound did nothing for him in that moment. 

“Hey, are you okay?” James asked. “Your heart is racing.” 

Daniel opened his eyes to see his boyfriend’s slightly concerned face looking down at him. “I’m all right, just a bit stressed.” 

“Because of the meeting with Jacob?” 

“Yeah, mainly that.” Daniel had approached his mum’s friend about the second painting, as per Rosemary’s instructions, and Jacob had been absolutely delighted. It had taken him a minute, but about a week prior he’d called Daniel saying he possibly had good news, whatever that could mean. It was not so much the event itself that stressed him out, it was the fact that he didn’t know what to plan for. If the painting didn’t sell too well, that was no problem. Life could just go on the way it did. If it did sell for quite a bit of money, he’d need to start planning. Perhaps he could even move out of the flat, find someplace a tiny bit bigger, where he wasn’t constantly reminded of work. But then he’d have to find a new tenant for the flat. A lot was happening, and though he knew it was all going to work out, he couldn’t help worrying about it. 

By the next afternoon, his concern had been entirely turned into excitement. After phoning James to share the news, which was indeed good he’d stopped by the shop to make sure Anwar had had a good workday, and to pack some clothes. Now that was all over with, and he couldn’t wait to make it across town and share the news with his boyfriend. He rushed down the stairs and out the back door, locking it behind him before making his way out of the alley and around the corner onto the main street. Standing in front of the shop, Daniel noticed to his surprise, was a man. He’d flipped the sigh himself about twenty minutes prior, and there hadn’t been anyone in sight then. But now there was. The figure seemed to just be standing there, staring at the door. The opening times were on there, Daniel didn’t quite get what was unclear about it. 

He carefully approached, scraped his throat. “Sorry, eh, we’re closed for the day-” As soon as he spoke up, the man turned his head and looked up. “Oh fuck.”

Daniel balled his right fist, dug his nails into the skin of his palm, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and hadn’t ended up in some twister version of the matrix. The faint pain that followed confirmed his growing suspicion. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought he was staring into some space-time defying mirror. The figure opposite him was a bit shorter than himself, by maybe two inches. His once dark curls were greying, there were countless lines around his green eyes. He was even wearing a flannel shirt, of all things, just like Daniel was in this exact moment. The resemblance was pretty much uncanny. 

“I, eh,” the man started. “I’m sorry to come by unannounced.” Daniel was nailed to the pavement, unable to move or speak. Hell, he could barely breathe. “I am y-”

“I know who you are.” He managed to break the spell just in time to interrupt this all too familiar stranger before he’d hear the words he didn’t know he was ready to hear. An array of replies shot through his head. You’re twenty-four years late. Lost your map? Phone line went down? Traffic on the M25? He couldn’t get anything out. What he’d given to be able to make a snide comment in return. 

“I wanted to see you.” The man said softly. He held his hand out as if he expected Daniel to shake it. Daniel just looked down. 

It took a minute or an eternity, but eventually he felt he could move again. The ability was nice, but he didn’t do anything. “You don’t even know my name, do you?” he asked slowly. No clue how this man would know his name, unless he’d been in touch with Rosemary. Impossible. If it took him a quarter of a century to find his way back to the shop, it would have taken him a millennium to find his ex in the French countryside. Also, she would have told Daniel. Surely, she would have done. 

“I’m afraid I don’t. I, eh, I’m Patrick.” A hint of an Irish accent in his voice, like regional accents sometimes arise when people introduce themselves. Patrick. He played the word a few times over in his head, before allowing himself another look at the face that matched the name. What struck him more than anything, more than the similarity between them even, was the fact that this man looked completely non-threatening. As anyone would, over the years he had formed a mental image of this person, and he realised now that it looked a lot more evil than its real counterpart. If anything, the man looked kind of sad. 

“Daniel.” His introduction was barely more than a whisper, but it was something. He realised he was still digging crescent moon shaped welts into the palm of his hand, so he slowly released his fist.

The man looked somewhat relieved. “I understand if you want me to go. Perhaps I shouldn’t have come at all.” He seemed to be trying to read Daniel, who still stood in the same spot, motionless and expressionless. 

He finally snapped out of it. “Twenty minutes,” he replied. “One cup of coffee. Then I’ll go.” That seemed reasonable enough, even though he didn’t feel in a position to make proper judgement on anything. Twenty minutes would fit at least some form of an explanation, and if there was anything he wanted it was that. “There’s a place around the corner.” He started pacing out in front of Patrick, expecting him to follow. When he got to the coffee shop he chose a seat out on the terrace. The weather was pleasant even for late May. An otherwise perfect day. Before Patrick even sat down Daniel had his phone out. It was 17:27. They hadn’t spent an eternity on the pavement in front of the store after all. He composed a quick nondescript text to James. Hey, I’ll be a bit late, something came up. Half 6 probably. X Quite the understatement, but he didn’t want to cause concern. 

“So why are you here?” he snapped as soon as they were both seated. Now he’d come back to his senses he realised he was angry. Not an emotion he was familiar or even close to comfortable with; only a handful of people had ever been able to make him properly mad, and never by just existing in close proximity to him.

“I wanted to see you,” Patrick repeated. 

“You’ve seen me. What now? What took you this long?” The questions started pouring out uncontrollably, as anger-fuelled questions do. “Did you even have a plan? Or where you just going to show up and say ‘congratulations you have a father now’? What makes you think I even want to see you?” He threw his hands in the air in sheer frustration. 

“I’m sorry. I- I should’ve…” 

“Stayed! Is what you should’ve done. Who even does that? Leaves a pregnant woman?” 

Patrick sighed, looked down at his hands. “A selfish arsehole, is who. A right bastard.”

It unsettled Daniel to suddenly be agreeing with this guy, and he wrestled with the feeling for a bit before a waiter appeared. “Good afternoon! What can I get you two?” he asked, all too cheery. Didn’t he realise there was a long overdue reunion going on here?! 

“Large coffee, black,” Daniel mumbled. 

“Same for me,” Patrick followed. Even the coffee order? God. This would’ve all been a lot easier if the likeness wasn’t so painfully obvious. 

“Coming right up!” The waited smiled with the force of a thousand suns before turning around on his heels and making his way back inside. 

“So?” Daniel picked up where he left off. “You left Rosemary to have a child on her own. Skipped out on all the difficult parts. Why did you even bother coming back?” 

“To apologise, I suppose. Perhaps also because I was curious. I’ve not been in London for a long time.” Smart move, Daniel thought. Might as well do the disappearing act properly. “When I came back recently I heard one of my paintings was being sold. Made me wonder what was going on…”

So that was it, the damned painting. Should’ve just left it up in the attic of the cabin to rot to nothing. Was he after his canvas, this guy? Strapped for cash, looking for his painting back? “Did you want it back or something? Is that why you’re here?” 

“No! God no! I was just surprised to hear of it, after all this time.” 

“Good, ‘cause it’s gone.” The papers were signed and everything. Felt like the whole ordeal had happened ages ago, rather than hours. “Well then, that’s your curiosity satisfied. Anything else?” 

“I wanted to see you, of course.” Third time he’d said that. Was this guy a bit dim or something? 

At this point the waiter returned to put two identical cups of coffee on the table. Before he could say or do anything else, Daniel shot him a look that made him leave. He picked up the cup and closed his hands around it. Took a sip, didn’t care that he nearly burned his mouth. 

“So I see the shop is still going,” Patrick continued with the faintest hint of a smile. 

“Yeah, I run it now,” Daniel explained as briefly as he could. 

The other man raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. “That’s impressive,” he noted. “I’d imagined you’d be studying or something.” 

“Done already.” Three years ago, in fact. From the corner of his eye he saw his phone screen lit up. Under any other circumstance he would’ve left it, but social custom wasn’t really a concern here. 17:35. Everything ok? X From James, of course. He typed a quick reply. Yeah, all good, don’t worry. See you soon X He put the device back down and looked up at Patrick. “My boyfriend. That’s where I was heading,” he explained, without a clue as to why he was explaining. It made him feel a bit like a defiant teenager, casually coming out to his estranged father figure. If this was a normal conversation with a normal stranger who wasn’t part responsible for his existence, Daniel would have refrained from using the term ‘boyfriend’. By his reasoning, James was neither a boy nor his friend, at least not anymore, which made the term sound all wrong. ‘Partner’ didn’t quite do it either, that just made it sound like he was actively trying not to disclose the person’s gender, and that was definitely not the case.

“I’m sorry, but this is just strange. Have you ever been confronted with your estranged father after twenty-four years of silence?” he asked, almost entirely rhetorically. After all, what were the odds?

“No, he never came back.” Shit. The odds were high, apparently. 

“Right.” Daniel spoke as he thought. “So you’re trying to… redeem yourself?”

“I s’pose that’s a good way of putting it. Didn’t want to keep making the same mistake.” 

However much Daniel tried, and he did try, he couldn’t really argue with that. This was one of those situations that looked the same from every angle you approached it, which answered just about his questions. Had Patrick stayed away, he would’ve gone on living happily but always ever so slightly resentful. Had he returned earlier, it would’ve probably been exactly like this. “So go ahead. I don’t know anything about you, except your name and, well, the obvious. Who are you?” 

“Not much to say, really.” The man shrugged. “I still paint a bit, work as a carpenter most of the time. Lived all over the place, most recently Spain for a few years, but now I’m back here. It’s changed so much, London. Except the shop. New name, same place.” It was indeed not much, but none of it sounded especially bad. 

“It used to be Green’s, right?” He’d only ever known the shop as Taylor’s Fine Art Supplies, and imagining someone else’s surname on the storefront felt weird. 

“That’s right. Old Harold Green. We used to joke he had eyes in the walls in that place.” At this Daniel allowed himself a bit of a smile; he remembered hearing similar complaints about the previous landlord from Rosemary. “So you live there now?” 

“Yep. Moved in when I started uni, stayed to manage the shop. I’m kind of looking for someplace else though.” Part thanks to you actually, Daniel added in thought. 

“Makes sense, it gets cramped up there. Always used to hit my head.” 

“Yeah, that makes two of us.” The sheer thought of living someplace with straight walls instantly made him a bit happier. “Hey so, I should go.” He finished his coffee and checked the time on his phone to make sure, it had indeed been about twenty minutes. “I don’t really know how to deal with all this right now, so-”

“Again, sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like this. For what it’s worth, it was nice seeing you. You seem to be doing good for yourself, much better than I was at your age. Don’t get me wrong, I was never worried, but I always wondered…” 

“I’ll be honest,” Daniel interrupted. “I don’t really know if I want to see you again, make this a thing. I need some time to think, it’s all a bit much. Maybe come round the shop in a week, closing time?” he proposed. “I’ll have it figured out by then.” With that, he took out his wallet, found a fiver and left it secured under the coffee cup. It would easily cover the coffee, and the rest was an apology for having stared down the waiter. 

“Sounds good.” Patrick smiled politely

Daniel nodded and made his way off the terrace, in a straight line to the station. He did not bother trying to process the events as he rode the overground. It was simply too bizarre, so much so that he the palm of his right hand to make sure all this had actually happened. The dents were there, purple red crescent moon shaped reminders. Rage Against The Machine played through his headphones, as angry and defiant and juvenile as he’d felt earlier. 

He turned the music off as soon as he got to James’s and took a second to enjoy the relative quiet around him before hitting the buzzer. He took the steps two at a time and hugged a slightly surprised James as tight as he could without hurting him. 

“Are you okay?” James asked, the sound muffled by Daniel’s shirt. 

“I’ve had a day,” he sighed into his boyfriend’s hair. That was anything but an overstatement, and he wanted to talk about it more than he had expected to, he just couldn’t find the words. 

Once settled on the sofa he eventually got going, told James the whole thing. How he’d turned the corner and spotted what he thought was a stray customer, how bizarre it had been seeing this man, practically an older version of himself. How he hadn’t felt like he was in control of himself, and how he still didn’t know if he made right decisions. It all came out in a blurry string of sentences, most of which were mumbled into James’s chest, against which he was curled up. He didn’t often feel small, at six foot four that seemed virtually impossible, but tonight was one of those rare occasions on which he did. That wasn’t the last of the day’s rarities. When he looked up at James after a moment of quiet, Daniel felt a drop of something wet glide down his cheek. He wiped the teardrop away and looked at it in disbelief for a second, before commencing to rub his eyes in an attempt to prevent any more from coming. Over the past few months, James had established himself as the crier amongst the two of them; for Daniel it had been years, and he was surprised that this of all things had finally done the trick. 

“So sorry to freak out like this,” Daniel finally said, new raw edge to his voice. 

James manages to smile and frown at the same time. “Is this you freaking out?” 

“I think so.”

“Oh god, come here.” Before he knew it, Daniel was being hugged so tight he could barely breathe, but it was all good. James hadn’t responded more than the occasional ‘hm’ or nod during his recollection of the events. It was his usual way of things, careful, measured. He was curious what was to come. “For what it’s worth,” James started as he let go a bit. It was worth a lot. “I think you did the right thing. You’re so nice, you always are. If you choose to have this person in your life he can count himself lucky. If not, that’s fine, as long as you do what feels good for you.” His expression went just a bit darker before he continued. “It’s not like you owe him anything. A good punch to the jaw, maybe, but aside from that…” 

“I thought about it for a split-second. Would’ve been a great first time to punch someone.” He laughed briefly seeing James’s disbelief at the fact that he’d never been in a fight before. “I wanted to ask,” he continued a lot more seriously. “If I do end up going for coffee with him again or something similar like that, would you come with? If that’s too much I totally get it, but… You’re really good at reading people and, well, you’re you.” He shrugged, hoping the point came across. 

James gently squeezed his shoulder, both arms still wrapped around his boyfriend’s skinny frame. “If you want me there, I’ll be there. I’ll even hit him for you if you want.” 

“Might need to take you up on that.” 

“Hey but the other thing, that went well, right?” Oh right, the thing he’d been stressed about, then excited, and now strangely ambivalent. 

“The meeting with Jacob? Yeah that was all good. He found a buyer for it, just wanted to make sure everyone agreed on anything. It sold well; not as well as last time, but better than expected.” Then again, his expectations had been purposefully low.

James seemed to sense that he didn’t really feel like talking about it any more, and he was glad. Lots of things were happening, and he was extremely happy to just take a step back before attempting to deal with it all. “I’m glad! It’ll al work out, it always does.” James looked down at Daniel and locked eyes before he continued. “Seriously, how long have I known you for, two years… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you make a bad decision.”

“I’ve made some poor choices, believe me.” For a split second he thought of Neil, of whom James was blissfully unaware. He should probably tell him about that at some point, but now was not the time. 

“Only because you say so. Shall I go get dinner on then?” James planted a kiss on Daniel’s forehead and proceeded to gently push him back into the sofa a bit so he could get up. 

“Sounds good. Would you mind if I just quickly took a shower before dinner?” Sometimes it massively helped to take a shower for some peace of mind. 

“You know where to find everything.” 

While he’d never pretend that spending a few minutes under some running water actually concretely solved anything, he did feel better afterwards. Looking in the foggy mirror he saw no traces of that other person, just his own face and eyes and hair. He imagined for some people it might be comforting meeting some long estranged family member, and wished it was like that for him too. Over the last few years, especially since Rosemary had moved away, he’d gotten quite comfortable being on his own. The same went for James, and he’d initially been quite worried about how they were going to figure it out together, but somehow it worked. They’d gotten good at being alone together, just existing in the same space. The commute across town was a bit tedious, but his boyfriends’s flat had become a bit of a second home; when he was there he truly felt like he was away. 

As James was finishing up dinner Daniel reappeared into the living room wearing some pyjama bottoms and a hoodie he’d found in the wardrobe and recognised as his own. It smelled of James, of fresh laundry detergent and spicy citrusy perfume and a certain sense of calm. He didn’t mind James stealing liberally from his wardrobe nearly as much as he implied by complaining about it, and getting them back scented of things he didn’t realise he liked to be reminded of proved a nice bonus. 

“Looks good,” he commented as he walked into the kitchen area. The dinner had turned out nicely, and it made him happy seeing James get increasingly excited about cooking as time went by. 

Afterwards they found themselves back on the sofa, with a mug of tea and a glass of wine respectively. “Do you just want to watch something?” James asked, reading Daniel’s mind. 

“Good Omens maybe?” Daniel suggested casually. 

James raised an eyebrow. “Gazing at David Tennant gonna make you feel better?” 

“It’s not going to make me feel worse,” he admitted in return. 

“You’re dreadful, you know that?” James laughed. 

“Yeah I’ve been trying to tell you that for the better part of half a year now.” 

He relaxed back into the cushions as James pulled up the episode they were left on and they watched, lazed, cuddled until it was all a bit better again.


End file.
